


Bewildered

by SparrowGlas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Draco Malfoy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Blood, Creature Fic, Dimension Travel, F/M, First Time, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex, Sexual Experimentation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25588000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparrowGlas/pseuds/SparrowGlas
Summary: "Harry. My name is Harry Potter."James fell back against the floorboards, casting one last frantic glance at the boy who claimed to be his son, before shaking his head."That isn't possible."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 249
Kudos: 2042





	1. 1

The moon was full.

Coating the trees around him in slivers of silken white and highlighting each stone it landed on; beneath its light, Harry believed almost anything could become clean again.

Everything except for him, of course. His was a dirt that did not wash out easily, a blot on his very soul that prevented him from sleeping and giving in to the happiness that wanted to exist around him. He was surrounded by friends, by people who wanted nothing but the best for him. Their smiles and laughter, their fought-for peace and well-earned relief often saw him through each day; even though the thought of having to climb into bed every night sent a chill through his blood.

The nightmares, he could do without.

They haunted whatever chance for a normal life he may have had, clawing at his mind even while he was awake and making peace an impossibility. Though the war had ended, so too had so many innocent lives; lives he himself had been responsible for. Lives of the ones he had loved and lives of the ones he had hated, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that mattered now were the faces that peered at him still beneath the darkness of corrupted sleep, their lifeless eyes demanding an answer of the saviour who had not saved them in time.

Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Lavender. Snape... So many others...

Their faces were never far from the ever-condemning criticism of his own mind. He should have done better, he knew that now. He should have tried harder or moved faster, he should have been stronger. In the months since the war had ended, Harry's own guilt had been a constant despite the hands that clapped his back and named him a hero. Despite all the celebrations that had taken place in the name of Voldemort's demise, Harry felt as though his insides were hollow. 

Green eyes seeming too big in a small face barely passed the age of eighteen, a body slender from too many missed meals. His skin itself was a silvery pale beneath the cleansing moonlight, hiding for a moment the scars that littered his arms, his neck, his forehead. Dark hair seemed almost black beneath the bright light and hanging in freshly washed waves to an upturned shirt collar. There seemed little point in cutting it, little point in doing anything that would make him stand out even for the briefest moment. He tucked into his small frame with a vengeance whenever he was with people, a vain attempt to hide away. It was hard to hide, though, when he had two of the literal brightest people in the world on either side of him. 

Harry's lips lifted in a gentle smile. How Hermione and Ron could stand his mood swings, how they had been putting up with him this past while, he would never know. He could never have wished for more loyal, more brilliant friends than the pair. That they were finally together despite their years of bickering and self-imposed awkwardness only served to brighten his usually dull and drifting mood; seeing their clasped hands and loving smiles bringing a curl to his own lips despite the faint flicker of envy that was sometimes present.

Love was a thing he both craved and was incredibly afraid of. To depend on someone so wholly as to give them your trust, your heart, your insecurities and your imperfections, was a terrifying concept. The love that he felt for the Weasley family, for his parents memory, for Sirius alone had been enough to almost tear him in two. To love someone like Ron loved Hermione? To know that every time one walked away, they took a small piece of the other's heart with them? To offer up all that Harry was, it just seemed a burden too big to place on anyone's shoulders. How could he possibly marr another soul so heavily with all that he had been through and expect them to still be capable of loving him? No. He could never do something so selfish. Nobody deserved that.

A howl ripped through the night air; cold and feral and alarmingly close.

Harry snapped his wand from its sheath beneath the snow white of his shirt, black-clad legs bracing where he had been standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Was it a wolf, or a werewolf? The distinction was a vital one. A wolf he could stun, could easily avoid the beast and make his way back to the castle unscathed. A werewolf was a far trickery creature. A werewolf meant possible death and, despite the sadness that often crept against his mind, death was something Harry intended to avoid his final year at Hogwarts. The boy moved, frantic steps sounding out heavily against the dry packed floor of the forest. He hadn't wandered too far from the castle, had he?

The howl sounded again, tapering into a ghoulish snarl that had his steps picking up in force. That had not sounded like any ordinary wolf.

Harry's eyes stretched into the endless darkness of the Forbidden Forest, the shadows clear and damning against his magically-corrected sight. A lot of good decent vision would be to him if he was caught by whatever creature had silenced the nocturnal sounds of the forest. His thighs protested the sudden movement, had grown tight and stiff in the year spent with no more adventure or action than the nightly strolls he took. Harry grasped his wand harder, breathing harsh as he almost stumbled over a series of rocks with a sharp turn to the right.

Had he come that way? Merlin, he had been sure he had only taken a ten minute stroll through the dark trees. Hermione would kill him when she found out.

If she found out.

The forest itself seemed to tilt with such a sudden shift that he stalled, moonlight spilling over his panicked face as he stumbled through a sudden clearing. Definitely unfamiliar, unknown to him. He shook the dizziness from his head with a groan, squinting up to stare at branches stretching out as though to reach for him. He bared his teeth as the world seemed to right itself with a snap, finding his feet beneath him again. 

Get a grip, Harry, you've faced werewolves before.

The sharp memory of Remus Lupin flashing before his eyes had him crashing against a solid Oak, hissing when the rough bark dragged the skin from his left arm like a ragged knife, staining his once pristine school shirt with scarlet blood. One year, he pleaded, eyes staring up to catch the snippets of moonlight still filtering through, could he not have one year where he didn't get himself caught up in his own stupidity? Was there no force out there that would prevent him from endangering himself?

"Please..." he gasped, the howl behind him becoming an all too hungry sound. So close... 

Harry cast one last desperate look up at the moon, his head spinning. "Please." 

###

The dark haired Order member groaned, stretching a kink from his back as he stood from the tree stump he had been sitting on for the past half an hour.

"I dunno about you, Sirius, but I'm about ready to call it a night."

Sirius Black glanced up at his friend, dark eyes brooding before they switched back to the pleasantly silent forest spread out before them. A sigh fell from his lips, one hand dragging through his dark curls as he, himself, stood with a cracking yawn. His body was that of an older man, though one in such pristine condition, one would be hard-pushed to find fault in it due to age alone. He kicked the pile of broken debris scattered about his feet with a roll of his eyes. "Someone sent us on a wild goose chase."

James Potter frowned, hazel eyes glinting behind the heavy frames he wore. "Not bloody likely," he growled, fitting his wand back into the holder on his arm before turning his back on the once aptly-named Forbidden Forest. It hadn't been known as such in nearly five years, its once proud inhabitants and terrifying legends long since fled after the battle of Hogwarts had wiped out half the ancient trees with fiend fire. That they had saved even half of the forest was a miracle in itself and had cost Dumbledore his last stand. It was not likely that they would find anything living in its dark depths, but still, it was their duty to be certain.

"You know well we were ear-marked for this journey." James' voice cut across the other man's thoughts, the Auror straightening his robes as he cast one last sorrowful glance at the rubble the ancient castle had been reduced to. It had seemed an unbearable sin to tear down what remained of the magical walls to rebuild something afresh. James remembered the day it was decided that the new school would be built elsewhere; Hogwarts remaining forever more as nothing but a heartbreaking reminder of the lives lost. A devastating declaration of war.

Sirius growled, sliding his own wand into his pocket as he shouldered the bag strewn across the damp grass. "I know, routine check to make sure no werewolf clans are trying to settle again. Spare me the Minister's lecture on maintaining Wizarding culture and preserving the landscape, James, the old fart has it damn well drilled into my skull."

James snorted a laugh despite his clouded memories, hazel eyes twinkling. "Maybe if you didn't try and add your own flare to the Auror's after years of strict training, he'd go easier on you, Padfoot. You bring it on yourself, like Lily says."

"Ah, Lily, flower of my heart," Sirius dodged the hex thrown in his direction, cackling, "You know, I'll never understand how a woman like that settled for an ass like you, Prongs. Twenty-six years bonded and she still hasn't left you. It's the Imperious, isn't it, go on you can tell me!"

"Blast it, hold still you mongrel so that I can do some damage to your face," James snarled, lips forming a feral smile as Sirius wrapped an arm around him in a gesture of brotherhood, his white teeth flashing in a handsome smirk. Sirius was Sirius, regardless of whether that lost him friendships or grated on people's nerves. It was one of the things James admired about his old friend, to remain so stoically... Himself. James sighed.

"She's invited you and Remus for dinner during the week." James bent to grab the discarded bag, shaking it free of dust, "it makes her happy to have a house filled with noise, she says that's how it should have been if not for... Well," James cut off with a cough, slinging the bag over Sirius' shoulder, "will you come?"

"Don't we always, my friend?" Sirius smiled warmly, only for a sudden blur of movement against the darkened forest to have him spinning back, his dark eyes narrowed. 

"Did you see that?"

James turned, a questioning hum on his lips, just in time to see a flicker of light before something burst through the forest opening. His wand was raised in an instant, red light flashing as he sent a stunning spell at whatever creature had come from within. There was a cry of pain, distinctly human and non-threatening, before the body crumpled to the ground and silence weighed heavy on the pair left standing.

"One of ours?" Sirius questioned, wand raised as the duo moved cautiously closer, his brow drawing down in confusion when they were close enough to see that this was the body of a boy, not a man or a werewolf. James cursed beside him, hazel eyes frantic as he pocketed his wand and pushed the youth onto his back, grimacing at the protruding bones beneath his fingers that let him know how long it had been since the kid had had a decent meal.

"He looks kinda familiar." James glanced up at his friend's comment, eyes searching the youth's face. A slender face, delicate and pale from lack of sleep. His cupid-bow lips were parted as he took in breath after frantic breath, as though, even unconscious, he was not at peace. His midnight dark hair was long for a male, curling and soft. It was dark, the youth's face half cast in shadows; and yet there was something familiar there, without a doubt, in the boy's perked nose and gentle chin. Something very familiar...

James shook his head.

"I don't know. We'd best take him back to Headquarters rather than the Ministry though. Those vultures would throw him in an interrogation cell before the boy's even seen a decent meal and from the looks of him, he needs one." Sirius murmured his agreement. The Order was a place anyone could feel at ease, even if the Black house itself was one in desperate need of a coat of paint. Wherever the boy had come from and whatever he had been doing wandering a forest alone at night, all of it could wait for now.

###

Harry woke with a snarl, flinging himself from a bed he was not familiar with even as the scent of something that was not Hogwarts gathered in his senses. The sheets now strewn along the floor were a midnight blue, the room his eyes flickered across a dull shade of pale brown. Unfamiliar.

A sudden movement had him pivoting, his hand leaping for his wand, only to grasp air. Harry let loose a strangled sigh, clutching at his forearm that held no wand holder but had instead been bandaged. The white bindings had him momentarily frozen, his mouth twisting in a grimace as he tried to calm his breathing.

"Hey, kid, you're alright. You're safe. Here, I'll give you your wand if you promise not to hex me?"

Harry staggered to face that voice, green eyes blown wide in his head and his mouth popping open as the image of Nymphadora Tonks sitting on a chair beside the wall filtered across his brain. But, of course, that couldn't be right. Tonks could not be sitting in this unfamiliar room with him with her vibrant pink hair and her cheeky smile, Harry's wand swinging in her hand like a toy. No, no, that wasn't right at all. Unless... Unless he had been...

"Am I dead?"

Tonks' smile melted, her brow drawing down in a line of worry as the kid suddenly swayed, catching himself on the railing of the bed as he stared at her like he had seen a ghost. The kid wasn't that sick, was he? Severus had poured as many nutrition potions down the boy's throat as he could without making him sick, how was it he was still dizzy? Tonks rose slowly, frowning as the boy became a statue, his white skin flushing green as he watched her get up and hold up her hands.

"Relax, kid. Why don't you get back into bed and I'll let Sirius know you're awake and then we'll have someone take a look at you, okay?"

A whine left the boy's throat as she spoke, his hands reaching up to drag at his black curls as though something pained him. Tonks watched him sob dryly, horrified, before stumbling from the bedroom with a gentle command to stay put.

Harry sank against the bedframe, back to the metal railing as he tugged on a fistful of hair, trying to make sense of exactly what was happening. Had he not been at Hogwarts? Fleeing from a bloody werewolf? Where the hell had he ended up and why the hell was this place taunting him with dead people. This wasn't right... No... This wasn't right...

"Hey, Champ."

Harry's clenched fists rose to his face, pale hands hiding the grimace he could no longer control as he turned to stare at the man now crouched beside him. Hazel eyes framed by dark glasses stared back at him, the man's older face smiling softly as he brushed a wayward strand of messy brown hair from his own forehead. Harry's heart stilled inside his chest, his hands falling from his face to land in his lap as his chest heaved one loud, broken sob.

"Dad?"

James' smile had vanished, his face an emotionless mask as he stared down at the small boy crouched behind his bed like he was hiding from invisible monsters. The Auror's heart bled for him, it really did. No child should have to live life so frightened, so confused. When those green eyes, glistening with unshed tears, had turned on him and that heartbroken voice called out to him, though, James had felt his insides freeze.

"Not possible..." he whispered, hazel eyes suddenly wide behind his lenses as the small boy stared up at him hopelessly.

Lily's eyes. 

James felt his heart quicken in his chest. His mouth was set in a grim line. Not only Lily's eyes, but Lily's chin. His Lily's features staring up at him and his Lily's distressed sobbing as the boy drew away suddenly, his dark hair once again clutched in pale hands as he bit his lips on a grimace. That was his own mess of dark hair on this stranger's head, James realised; his own unruly curls and his own slender nose. The only physical things he had known his son had inherited from him. 

His son.

"What's your name?" James demanded suddenly, pulling the boy's hand from his hair with more force than necessary. The boy glared at him, one moment furious and the next, devastated. Every emotion was on show in those emerald eyes in a way they never were with Lily. The boy grabbed his arm back, his breath leaving him in a sigh and his eyes sliding shut almost as if he was preparing himself for something inevitable.

"Harry. My name is Harry Potter."

James fell back against the floorboards, casting one last frantic glance at the boy who claimed to be his son, before shaking his head. "This isn't possible."

"Yeah, I've gathered that, thanks!" The boy spat suddenly, drawing his knees to his chest and glaring at James over the top of them. "Unless you haven't noticed, you're supposed to be dead!"

That threw James for a loop. He frowned, glancing around the room until his eyes landed on Tonks' wide-eyed face. He cleared his throat, shaking his head to clear it as he rose to his feet. Clearly, there was something both of them were missing here and he needed to be rational. So his son was... Alive...

Was his son alive?

He needed to breathe. He needed to... To let someone take over for a minute.

"Would you go find someone his own age, Tonks, and have them show him to the kitchen for some food or something. A few of the younger Order members are usually floating around in the attic with the bat. Could you just... Take him... Just for a second. I need... I need to find Sirius and Remus."

Tonks was already nodding, her brown eyes melting to green as she turned to face the boy still hunched in on himself behind the bed. James cast him one last desperate look, terrified by the grief of loss that was attacking his mind once more, the old pain like new; and yet, at the same time, trying to deal with a baffling amount of vicious, confusing excitement. His son. 

That was his son.

###

They were in Grimmauld place. Harry almost rolled his eyes for not recognising the house sooner. As soon as Tonks lead him towards the creaking set of stairs, he recognised it. Granted, he had never seen it so... bright and airy, but it still held the abject misery that a few new windows and open curtains simply weren't going to fix.

"Sooo... Harry... Wanna tell me where you came out of? I mean, I know they found you at the forest but that place has been abandoned for years." Tonks eyed him warily, prodding him with the end of his own wand before handing it back with a grin, "you're not some kind of illusion, are you? Some strange new creature that takes on impossible forms?" She leaned in to sniff at him, "You smell like a normal Beta, are you just a Beta? You really are just a wizard?"

As surreal as the conversation was, Harry couldn't prevent the small smile across his lips as he glanced up at Tonks. The same, old Tonks.

"I think so. I mean, I am a wizard, yes, not a, a creature or anything... I was just taking a walk, I don't usually go so far from the school."

"The school?" Tonks stopped, her wand paused where she had begun to call down the stairs leading to the attic.

Harry nodded, green eyes flitting about the shadowy corridor. "Yeah, you know, Hogwarts? McGonagall's gonna kill me when she's realised I've gotten myself messed up in whatever the hell this all is. I mean... I wasn't lying, my father really is dead..." Harry puffed out his cheeks with a sigh, his head spinning as Tonks placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

"One step at a time, kid. Go on up and meet some of the other kids, let the adults have a chat about what to do. They usually make a nest up there to escape whatever they've got going on at home. Poor sods if they feel more comfortable here than with their parents." She shivered, "this place gives me the creeps."

Harry smiled again, though it felt more like a grimace.

One step at a time. Right. He could do this. He reached out to grab the ladder, pulling himself up with ease and stepping through the opening silently. They were around his age, right? That could mean Hermione and Ron were here... 

So this was a strange world he had dropped himself into, by the looks of things... An unreal world.... But he could get on with those two in any universe, right? 

Same old Ron and Hermione... What else could be different?

Lots of things, he thought with a stutter to his breathing, if his walking and talking and breathing father was anything to go by... 

Harry stood in the darkly lit room, the open space cluttered with box upon box of dust-covered junk, and abandoned furniture piled almost to the ceiling. He could safely admit that he was far from home now. How had he even managed this? What had happened in that forest?

"If you're trying to be sneaky, you aren't doing a good job. I can smell you, Beta."

The voice, dark and seductive with a roll of genuine humour sounded... almost familiar. Harry darted forward around a stack of wooden crates, eyes wide. That voice, he knew that voice...

The group seated around the corner drew him up short, his frowning face giving way to confusion. One face he simply did not recognise. Male and blonde and with such a devious glint to his dark eyes that Harry looked away first. The lumbering hulk beside him could have been none other than Gregory Goyle, the boy's face as unfortunate in this new world as it had been in the last, though his fat seemed to have been replaced by a wall of muscle. Harry blinked at them, twisting to see more.

And there was Ron, his lanky form lounged against an old wicker chair and a female who was not Hermione seated between his parted thighs. He quirked an eyebrow at Harry, his long arms winding around the brunette in front of him.

"You look like you've been through hell, mate, you new to the Order?"

His voice was just the same, his tone concerned and mildly amused as Harry watched him pull the giggling brunette in for a cuddle, her laughter pitchy and lilting and all too familiar. Despite the sweet smile on her face and the gentle curl to her once straight, dark hair; Pansy Parkinson was a face Harry would never forget. She looked at him now with a fraction of curiosity in his brown eyes that was marred only by her contempt at his appearance.

"Oh, sweetheart. Do you enjoy dressing in rags or were Mummy and Daddy too poor to care what you looked like?"

Harry snarled, drawing his wand out and pointing it at a suddenly wide-eyed Pansy. The brunette stood with a growl, "stand down," she shrieked, glaring at him, "Merlin, touchy subject, alright. I apologise, consider it taboo now put down your damned weapon, we do not threaten others in this house."

Harry's arm dropped, his breath catching in his chest. Had Parkinson just apologised to him? Had the girl who had once offered him up to Voldemort just preached peace? Was she a member of the Order? Gods, did the Order even stand for the same thing here? He had no idea what was going on... what to expect. Harry's scowl fell to nothing, his lips quivering suddenly in a way that had Parkinson stalking towards him slowly as though he were a deer about to bolt.

Harry felt his eyes cloud, his wounded arm lifting to scrub a hand across his face. It should be Hermione offering him that look of guarded sympathy, that innate worry that came with a maternal instinct. It should be her and Ron cuddled at Hogwarts glaring at him as he described how he had just escaped a mauling from a feral werewolf. It should not be this... strange and confusing reality that was enfolding before his eyes; that wiped away the deaths of his loved ones as though they had never happened, as though the trauma and pain in him now had no right to even exist. This wasn't right... Merlin, this wasn't right...

"Ah, Pans... You've scared the poor boy half to death."

That voice spilled over Parkinson's gentle murmurings, a pale hand darting out to knock the woman back a few feet. The body that followed was one that could have been a new nightmare all in itself. Sleek and strong and decked in a silk shirt and stiff trousers of black that only served to enhance his snowy white skin. The torso twisted, long legs braced against the old floorboards as wings snapped free of their confinement against the man's spine; jet-black and scaled like a dragon's.

"Oh dear," that familiar voice cooed as Harry dragged what he was certain were huge eyes up that tall body, taller even than the man had been back at Hogwarts. Harry felt his stomach flip horrifically, what little contents it held threatening to rise. A pale, pointed face edged ever closer, staring down at him from beneath a curtain of white-blonde hair that fell to slender shoulders. Pale lips quirked in a familiar smirk that had Harry's blood boiling as he locked gazes with, not the pale silver he had expected, but a deep blood red. 

Draco Malfoy's lips split in a genuine smile, the barest point of sharp teeth scraping against his bottom lip.

"Never seen a vampire before, little boy?"


	2. 2

In hindsight, pulling a wand on a fully matured Vampire probably wasn't the cleverest of moves Harry had ever tried.

He groaned, back throbbing where he lay against the side of the attic floor stilted still with rafters. His wand was grasped tightly in the pale fingers of Draco Malfoy, a man who wore such a grimace of discomfort on his face that Harry almost felt bad for forcing his hand.

And that was just... Completely mad.

Draco Malfoy; his school rival and a man he had only begun to come to terms with in his own reality, was now a creature of the night and had just disarmed him and sent him flying across the room to collide with the uneven floor. Not only would such an... appearance by disconcerting, but the fact that Draco Malfoy had just bested him in combat, in the blink of an eye it had taken Harry to jab his wand into the man's neck, was nerve-wracking. Malfoy had never beaten him at anything. Not only those small facts though; such an action as defeating Harry Potter would have had the previous Draco Malfoy laughing aloud with glee and that trademark smirk plastered across his smug face.

This Malfoy was frowning.

Not only frowning, but grimacing, such a human gesture that looked as unsettling on the blonde's aristocratic face as it did on a vampire with scarlet eyes. He sighed, stowing Harry's wand away in the band of his pants before the soft sound of boots approaching had the green eyed wizard scrambling against the floor to stand and defend himself.

Harry struggled to his feet, hands raised before him as though he expected some vicious blow and his green eyes narrowed on the blonde vampire.

"Don't touch me!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, an almost comical gesture were it not for their blood-thirsty tint. "Alright," his voice was the same smooth drawl it had always been, though with a degree of emotion that set Harry on edge, "clearly, we have a child with some deep-rooted hate of dark creatures and a tendency to attack before he speaks. Not very gracious traits, little one, and most certainly not acceptable at the Order. Who was it that recruited you? If you can call it that... I'd go so far as to call it kidnapping."

Harry bared his teeth at the round of laughter that comment called up from the rest of the group. A hatred of dark creatures? Hell no, he had adored Remus. What he did have was a well-deserved hate of snotty little rich boys who thought they owned the place and reveled in the misery of others. "I'm not much younger than you! And for your information, I knew a werewolf once and he was like family to me."

"A werewolf? Well then, there is hope for you yet." Draco smiled, the feature so shockingly unexpected and pleasant on the blonde's sharp features that Harry dropped his fighting stance and felt his head tilt in confusion. What the hell? Malfoy stalked from his front to his back, a slow circle as his blood-red eyes trailed over Harry's form, "though I hardly think you're more than fifteen. That's a big step down from twenty-four, little one."

"Twenty-four?" Harry felt his stomach roll with unease, his green eyes snapping up to glance at Draco's face before he pulled away from the intensity there, focusing instead on the other four occupants of the attic. Now that he really thought about it, they did seem in some strange way, older than his own schoolmates had been. Ron had lost some of the lankiness to his gangly frame, more toned and a degree broader. Even Pansy's curious face had lost a roundness that Harry had not even realised was there on the old Pansy.

"Yes, twenty-four," the only female grinned up at him, tucking her feet beneath her where she sat on the floor by Ron's stretched-out legs, "though if you were aiming for lower, I am flattered, sweetheart." She watched him cast a nervous glance at Draco, obviously on edge; though what the vampire had done beyond call him a kid, Pansy did not know. He was young, there was no denying that, younger than they ever recruited Order members. His bandaged arm and the ribs visible beneath that flimsy white shirt spoke of neglect and damage even with his green eyes guarded. Pansy suspected one decent legilimens would have spilled every one of the fragile creature's little secrets and by the way his body guarded each step he took, it was obvious that he had secrets.

"I'm eighteen," he said suddenly, frowning at Draco's snort of disbelief before crossing his arms before him like a small child about to be dealt a punishment. "Look, I'm a little out of my depth here... I don't know what the hell is going on or if I'm dreaming or knocked my head on a rock in that forest, but I'm starving."

"Clearly." Was Draco's dry roll, his red eyes slanting on the boy's slender form. The blonde almost regretted pushing him so hard, though he would have reacted in such a way to anyone who had threatened his friends or himself. Even as a human, he had never been one to deal well with threats, magical or not. The blonde straightened, tucking his wings comfortably against his back before nodding his head in the direction the boy had come from, one pale hand rising to beckon the group forward.

"Come on, then, it wouldn't do to have you keel over under our watch."

###

"So, what's your name then? And why is it you reckon you're dreaming?"

Ron waited until the bowl of stew Pansy had heated and set before the younger boy was half empty, his hands braced on his chin before asking the question. There was something oddly familiar about the boy that had Ron frowning from his seat beside Greg, the larger man's head bowed over a bowl of his own. He didn't recall the youth from Hogwarts, though there was a six year age gap and the kid would have only been starting out by the time they left. Hell, he would have still been attending at the time of the battle; maybe that's why the kid was so twitchy whenever Draco stalked about the room or Tommy laughed too loud at something Pansy had said. Sure, the students had been hidden by McGonagall at the time, but that didn't mean to say that the kid might have seen something traumatic or gotten knocked about in the run from the Great Hall to the Dungeons.

Green eyes focused on him, wary and watching even though his body seemed to have relaxed in the wooden chair. He pushed his bowl away with a sigh, running one hand through his wayward curls as he rolled his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

"My name's Harry."

"Harry." Pansy sighed from where she leaned against the counter, one jean-clad hip braced against the edge. "I was expecting something exotic and you give me 'Harry'." She watched the boy dis-colour, his pale cheeks flushing pink enough to warrant a leering stare from Draco before the blonde picked up the discarded bowl and stood to dump it in the sink. Harry followed his movements like it was second nature, his gaze not settling on Pansy again until Draco had braced himself against the windowsill and was watching the world outside illuminated only by the stars.

"Well, sorry, but it's just Harry." The dark haired youth brought his hand up to tug at his unkempt hair, trying to still the migraine that was swiftly swimming behind his eyes. This was surreal. Everything that was panning out was evidence of something not-right and yet these people were carrying on as normal and the world was still spinning and the soup still tasted like soup and Merlin, what was he going to do? How could he get himself out of a mess he hadn't even consciously created? What the hell had happened in those stupid woods that had led him running into an alternate world where nobody knew him but his dead father?

His father. Gods, he had a father. James Potter was alive and maybe that meant his mother... Oh, and Sirius too if Tonks' word was anything to go by. Harry groaned, forcing his hands against eyes that were rapidly filling with tears. What was he going to do? How could he just pretend everything was alright? What was he going to do? What was he going to do...

Cool fingers suddenly and sharply gripping the back of his neck had Harry's panicked breathing halting in its tracks, his mouth open as his nape was pinched gently, forcing his hands to drop to his sides. Had that spot always been so sensitive?

"Panic gets us nowhere, little one."

The voice was intended for his ears alone, those fingers gripping his skin once more as a shiver raced through him, before sliding away. Harry sat, agape, wide eyes pinned on Malfoy as the blonde slinked from beside him and dropped his tall body into a chair tucked against a wall. Repulsed, his mind supplied the sudden blank slate the sensation of those pale fingers had left against his neck, he should feel repulsed. He should shout out and rebel such treatment. He wasn't a child and he wasn't a pet to be trained into cooperating. How dare Malfoy touch him?

He opened his mouth, brow furrowed, only for an almost imperceptible shake of the blonde vampire's head to clamp his lips shut once more and have him turning his eyes down. Repulsion was perhaps the furthest thing from his mind. Confusion, yes, without a doubt. He was very confused, but repulsed by the action? Those fingers had taken with them some of his headache... How...

Harry jumped as the door to the kitchen was flung open, Pansy shrieking where she had been silently studying the exchange between her friend and the stranger. She blinked furious eyes at the bang the sudden entrance had caused, snarling when the rumpled figure of Sirius Black filled the doorway.

"Trust it to you, Black, to make such an unnecessary bloody entrance."

The Auror ignored her, his black eyes wide as the footsteps behind him sounded in time with the voice of James Potter.

"Damn it all, Sirius, get back here! We don't even know if it's really him! It could be a trick!"

Sirius growled, propelling himself into the kitchen before James could swipe him backwards, snapping out his wand in a playful manner when James skidded in behind him, his own wand raised. "Well, I'll damn well see if it's a trick won't I? As if I wouldn't know my own Godson!" The dark haired wizard huffed as he straightened his robes, face smiling as he turned towards the table. His eyes landed on the boy at the end, small and eclipsed by the taller forms of Ron and Tommy on either side of him. His eyes were huge in his head, all but popping from his skull as he stared back and forth between the two new occupants of the room. He was young, too young to be the Harry Potter of this world; but there was no mistaking that face. By Merlin, he knew the boy had been familiar.

"Harry."

The sound of his name on the lips of a man long dead had Harry jerking back, his hands braced against the table. 

Sirius Black, a man Harry had blamed himself for the death of, stood before him in brilliant scarlet robes, his face younger and healthier than Harry had ever known it to be and his black hair pulled back in an elegant ponytail. His body moved before his mind could even recognise what was happening, his legs striding forward until he had thrown his arms around the frozen man before him and buried his face in the wizard's chest. "Sirius."

Stiff arms came around him, unsure and timid, until a hand was patting his back and a soothing shush against the crown of his head had Harry sobbing against this stranger's chest. This was Sirius... No matter that this world was not his own and the people in it were strange and unnerving, this was his Sirius. This was the man who had offered him a home when he hadn't even sorted a home for himself, the man who had begged for the right to raise him when his parents had died and who had given his life to protect him. This was Sirius.

Sirius glanced at his friend helplessly, arms around the young boy that clung to him as though he was a lifeline. Shouldn't this have been the lad's reaction to his father, not his Godfather? James was watching them, his hands clutched in the material of his robes as if to stop himself from reaching out. He shared a grim glance with Sirius' dark eyes, his head tilting in a nod. They needed to understand just what it was that was happening. Dimension jumping was no joking matter, nor was it something to take lightly. If this was Harry Potter from another world, than they needed to understand just why he had been brought to their one, and if there would ever be a possibility of returning him home. James frowned as he watched Sirius lead the boy through to the living room, the younger members trailing behind them with curiosity and intrigue in their eyes. Judging by the emotional and physically state of his... son, James wasn't sure whether he even wanted to send the boy back home.

###

"So you were at Hogwarts? And it's still a school in your world?"

Harry turned to face the blonde boy he hadn't known from the group of younger Order members, his stomach twisting as he finished his story of how he had been repeating his final year in Hogwarts due to the war and had wandered off alone into the forest and gotten chased by the wolf. He had no real answer as to why he had emerged into their Hogwarts and not his own beyond cursing himself for getting into another stupid mess.

"Of course it's still a school. They rebuilt it a bit but it's still the same old Hogwarts. McGonagall made an incredible job of it and because of so many of us fighting in the war and on different sides, we had to return to retake our exams."

"You fought in the war?" Ron breathed, blue eyes huge and for a moment, Harry smiled, reminded of his own Ron Weasley. He twisted his legs beneath him where he sat on the couch beside Pansy, her presence almost comforting as she murmured reprimands at him for being alone outside. Bizarre though it was to his senses, this Pansy was clearly a better person than her counterpart.

"We all did." Harry's gaze narrowed, "I take it there was a war here too, then?"

Sirius sighed from the chair to Harry's right, his eyes flicking to James where the man watched Harry with unblinking eyes. "Five years ago, yes," he grimaced, "and before that. I don't suppose you know who I'm referring to when I say You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort." Harry deadpanned, drawing a hiss form the dark form of Draco Malfoy where the vampire stood frozen against the doorway, his arms crossed. Harry scowled at him, nose wrinkling. "You can't still be afraid to say his name, can you? He's been dead for a year."

"Five years here," Sirius supplied with his own grimace, taking in Harry's bored expression with a degree of trepidation. "When he first rose to power, it was with expectations to take over the Wizarding World and make it more pure. He turned good men with threats of death to their children, to their families. He twisted them to little more than slaves for his doing and will. It wasn't until he had expanded to the point of almost tearing down the ministry that he made one fatal mistake. He discovered some of his own men had turned on him and were playing the part of the spy and as revenge, he took his anger out on their families. But it backfired. He was the one left destroyed and we were given the Boy Who Lived."

Harry was nodding slowly, face a mask. Though it was familiar, certain details and the extent of Voldemort's reign had been different in this world. It seemed his own life had carried out the same though. Destined in every reality to be nothing more or less than the Boy Who Lived. He almost sighed, maybe that would explain why there seemed to be no Harry in this world and why his father was staring at him as though he expected him to vanish away. Had his counterpart been killed? Maybe his mother was still dead then... Old as the pain of his mother's death was, the thought was one that created an ache in his chest.

"Yes, yes" Harry said, "I know all that. A mother's sacrifice, Voldemort's destruction and him coming back to life. That was when we learned about the Horcruxes, when he began to grow in strength. Dumbledore told me and we had to find them so that he could be killed for once and for all. And he was."

James became animated in his seat, his face blinking into a scowl. "Your Dumbledore had children retrieve the Horcruxes? You could have been killed! Even having a skilled team of Aurors retrieve and finish them lost us several of our men. Not to mention the fact that Neville gave up his own life to finally put an end to it. What sort of world did you live in that children were given tasks of war and ordered to fight?"

Harry stared at his father, something dropping in his stomach that sent cold throughout his limbs. "Neville?"

"Yes, Neville Longbottom," James sighed, shaking his head sadly, "the kid was a bloody hero. As soon as he realised the final Horcrux was living inside of him, he finished it so that we would have a chance to defeat You-Know-Who. He took his own life so that that madman would be mortal. Hogwarts was destroyed with the amount of magic created during the battle. It was never rebuilt. That..." James frowned suddenly, his lips pursing in thought, "that didn't happen in your world? Neville didn't take his own life?" The thought was one that sat uneasily with the people in the room, the idea that a piece of Voldemort was still existing in someone, small as that piece may be.

Harry was frozen, skin paling as he picked at the loose strands of his ripped shirt, stomach rolling. "No," he whispered, shaking his head, "no, Neville didn't have to kill himself. The Boy Who Lived found out that he was a Horcrux and went to meet Voldemort by himself. He knew he was going to die, but it almost didn't matter. So many others had died around him and for him and it just seemed... Fair, you know? That he would finally be going and he could save them with one easy sacrifice. He was scared, though."

"Harry?"

Harry sniffed, coaxing a hand through his thick hair to tug at the strands gently. "And Voldemort killed him, and in doing so destroyed the piece of his own soul that was living inside the boy. And then, that boy had a choice to make. He could either go on the quiet path to death with those who had given their lives to help him and protect him, or he could pick the harder path and continue to live, and finish what Voldemort had started. Finish the war." Harry sighed, glancing up to catch his father's eye.

"I'm the Boy Who Lived. I killed Voldemort."

###

"You..." 

James' whispered word fell into the heavy silence, eyes pinned on the small boy in front of him that looked so lost in his own skin. This was the Boy Who Lived. His son had been the wizard to vanquish Voldemort, to kill another human being. His son had been the person with Voldemort's soul living within him. Even now, James remembered the nightmares Neville had suffered through, had almost been driven mad by. His son... His son...

James groaned, his mouth turning down. "Your parents were the ones who died while you were a baby. Lily and myself... We were gone..." The thought was one that chilled him to the core, not so much as knowing that his counterpart was dead, but realising that this boy had never known his own mother and father.

Harry came to himself with a short shake of his head, his eyes softening. "Yeah, my parents died when I was little. I lived with the Dursley's." A shudder wracked the boy's framed, nose wrinkling in disgust. "It was not the prettiest of childhoods."

James' temper snapped, his body springing from the couch to pace the room and drawing a growl from Draco at the sudden movement. "Petunia and Vernon!" he hissed, "you were sent to Petunia and Vernon? Why the hell not Sirius? Or Remus? I would never have let any child of mine be sent to those magic-hating muggles!"

"Well, Sirius was in Azkaban and Remus was nowhere to be found. I didn't meet them until I was thirteen and werewolves weren't allowed adopt children and Sirius was still a wanted man so I couldn't go stay with him." The aghast sound that fell from his Godfather's lips was countered by James' gasp and Harry groaned, lifting his hands to rub at his face viciously. "Look, clearly, whoever my counterpart is here has led a very different life to the one I've had. Why don't I start from the beginning?"

James was watching him, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his robe as if he didn't quite know what to do with them. Harry eyed him until he had sat back down, his hazel eyes dark behind his frames. "Your... counterpart. My son is dead."

He had been afraid of that. Harry grimaced, his eyes flitting between the man he had dreamed of speaking to and living with ever since he had seen his smiling face in the Mirror of Erised. This was his father, for Merlin's sake. This was the man who possessed the same blood, the same genes, the same dreadful hair as himself; even if he had had a Harry of his own, this was his dad. How could the man feel like a stranger to him... How could he have been happier to see his Godfather alive and well than he had been with his own family?

"How did he die?"

There was no tension, no abrupt silence like the kind that would follow a traumatic death; merely a sigh from Sirius and a patient smile filled with a world of sorrow from James. "Pneumonia." The hazel eyed man supplied, pulling off his glasses to wipe the lenses clear on his robes, his legs stretching out to cross at the ankles. "He was very sickly as a boy, a Beta born too early. Harry was prone to bouts of illness, never took to cold weather well and always had to be inside when the snow was highest. One year, some time after his eight birthday, he fell ill. Of course, it was almost a pattern at this point. He would take a turn for the worse, need extra care, and then he'd be back on his feet come Spring ready to take on the world. So we tucked him in, Lily and I, and we said goodnight and we kissed his forehead and..."

The man's voice was a breath, heard only for the sombre silence the younger wizards and witch gave out of respect. As he trailed into nothing, Sirius reached across the arm rest to take a firm grip of the man's shoulder, baring a sad smile when his friend glanced up at him. "And he never woke up." Sirius finished, turning dark eyes on where Harry sat curled into the couch. "It was his time and he went peacefully, before anything bad in the world could touch him or taint him. He was a good boy." There was an answering murmur from James as he straightened with a sigh, turning to the stranger who bore his son's face and name with a smile.

His Harry had been a good boy. He had been a sweet child with no world experience and loving parents and an army of friends, including three of the boys sat around him now. His son had died a child and would forever remain that way in James' memories, innocent. The boy that sat across from him now was an altogether different person. This was his Harry, undoubtedly. He could never deny the likeness in their features and the pale wizard's strong resemblance to his Lily; this was the son of James Potter and Lily Evans. The life he had led, though, had not been a happy one.

"Will you tell us your story, Harry?"

The stranger grinned at him and James saw a flicker of the sweet faced child that had been his own son. "It's kinda a long story, kind of really long and I got myself into enough trouble to warrant an eternity of groundings." He chuckled suddenly, the sound breaking the fragile atmosphere and drawing a grin from Sirius.

"A rule breaker, eh? Following proudly in his father's footsteps! Out with it, lad. Right now we've got nothing but time."


	3. 3

Harry stretched his legs out in front of him, his two hands settling on his stomach as he cast dark green eyes up towards the ceiling. Where to start...? The beginning would have been an obvious answer, if Harry could find it within himself to talk about his parent's deaths with his very living father sitting not three feet across from him. He blinked as he allowed his eyes to follow the intricate moulding of the front room ceiling. Had that been there in the old Grimmauld place? Harry wasn't so sure... He puffed out a breath in a loud sigh.

"So, I grew up with muggles. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were... adverse to magic to say the least. The day I found out I was a wizard and began to understand why they hated me so much was on my eleventh birthday when Hagrid came to give me my Hogwarts letter." He held up one hand at the sound of his father's outraged exclamation, his lips quirking in the corners. If that offended him, James Potter was in for a roller-coaster of emotions. "No interruptions, or I'll never get to finish the story." Harry chuckled, his eyes darting back down to see the elder Potter lean back against the couch he now shared with Ron and the unknown blonde; Gregory Goyle was a mountain of a man on the stool beside them. The sight was enough to have Harry shaking his head at the strangeness of it all.

"Hagrid came to give me my letter because my aunt and uncle were hiding me from the Wizarding World. They wanted nothing to do with it. Needless to say, they did not get their way and I went to Hogwarts where I met my first friend. Ronald Weasley." The redhead perked, his lips splitting into a smile not unlike the ones Ron had so often cast Harry in the past. Harry grinned back at him.

"We became friends with a girl called Hermione, a muggle-born. Without the two of them, I would never have made it through my first year. At Halloween, Hermione was cornered by a troll in the bathroom and Ron and I helped knock it unconscious, not only that but it was the first year that I came face to face with Voldemort. He was... possessing one of the school professors, a man named Ouirrel. Because of the sacrifice my mother had given me by dying for me, the man couldn't touch me without crumbling to nothing. Maybe it was just dumb luck that I survived, really...

"Anyway, in second year the three of us were confronted with the Heir of Slytherin. In the end, that too turned out to be Voldemort possessing one of the younger girls through the use of a diary Lucius Malfoy had slipped into her cauldron. He very nearly killed her too. I destroyed the first Horcrux without even knowing it with a fang that had come from the basilisk living in the chamber beneath the school. Come to think of it, I would have died then too if Fawkes hadn't rescued me. I'm not sure whether to count myself lucky or unlucky." Harry chuckled, the sound dying down when he met James' horrified gaze and averted his eyes with a sigh. Malfoy was watching him with a slant to his blood red eyes, his mouth a grim line and his face blank as he lounged against the wall closest the door. Merlin, Harry had almost forgotten he was in the room, he was so bloody still. He coughed, dragging his eyes away to land on Sirius.

"Third year was when I met you. I thought you were going to kill me," Harry grinned at the scowl on his Godfather's face, "I only found out through sheer stubbornness that you were my Godfather and a friend of my father's. You had escaped from Azkaban, after being locked up for twelve years for the murder of Peter Pettigrew." There was a choked sound from across the room but Harry ignored it. "The Dementors were everywhere... You were to be given the Kiss on sight. I didn't know until myself, Ron and Hermione were in the Shrieking Shack that Pettigrew was the one that had given away my parent's hideaway, betrayed them as their secret keeper. He had been hiding as a rat for twelve years, if you can believe it. No one suspected a thing. But Remus came to defend you and then Snape turned up and with the full moon... In all the chaos, he got away and with him gone so was your chance of clearing your name. You had to go into hiding."

Sirius was nodding, his brow marred with a frown as though he wanted to say something, but refrained. Harry rolled his shoulders slowly, sighing at the tension there. "In fourth year my name got dropped into the Goblet for the Triwizard Tournament by a death eater we later learned was in disguise as one of the professors the whole time. Not only that, but that was the year Voldemort was resurrected. The cup had been transformed into a portkey and it dragged me and... and Cedric to a cemetery. My blood was taken and they... they killed Cedric. They..." Harry struggled with the old pain, his fingers clutching in the fabric of his shirt before he shook his head with a grimace. "He came back and nobody believed me and I was branded a liar by the minister and the next year I lost the only thing I had ever had close to a father. Sirius was taken from me 'cause I was too stupid to tell a fake vision apart from a real one and... Merlin, they had to believe me then, they saw him with their own eyes! He was everywhere... in the school, the muggle world, the ministry. His death eaters were all over the place and it had to be stopped. We had to stop him. No one else was going to stop him. It had to be me. I had to stop him. I had to kill him. I..."

Fingers were digging into his shoulders so abruptly Harry jerked at the contact, his eyes blinking back the all too real nightmares that were playing across his vision to find himself breathing like a man deprived of oxygen, his father's worried face just inches from his own.

"I had to do it." He gasped, the sound of his own voice desperate and raw. "He had to be stopped and no one else could... I was the chosen one, it was me. It was always meant to be me."

"Oh Harry..." James pulled with gentle but persistent hands, gripping the youth until his thin form had collapsed from the cushions and crumpled into his father's lap, his chest heaving with sobs that held no tears but all the panic of a young child pushed too far. This was how the other world had won? By sending a child to war as a captain? The hazel-eyed man felt his heart stutter in his chest, his arms coming around to wrap Harry in an embrace he doubted the boy had ever gotten in his life. His Harry had been so pure, so sweet and innocent that the thought of knowing he would never face battle was one that had James almost relieved. This Harry was broken... Lost and uncertain and it tortured something inside of him to see any form of his son in such a way.

"Sirius, could you firecall Sev, please? A good calming draught is needed. You might... You might want to call the other two, as well."

The dark haired man had risen from his seat to crouch beside his friend and the boy still mumbling incoherently into James' chest, his small body wracked with the force of his own breathing. Sirius paused, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure?"

"Now is as good a time as any." James replied with a sigh, taking the blanket Pansy had suddenly materialised with, with a thankful smile and wrapping it around the youth's scrawny shoulders. "Besides, it wouldn't do to keep something like this hidden for long unless it was something that was just going to go away. He won't be going back there if I have anything to say on the matter."

The raven haired man nodded once before taking off. Severus had already seen the state of the boy and could quickly be filled in on who exactly he was. Lily and Remus would be an altogether different problem to tackle. He would need to sit them down before they even laid eyes on the Harry Potter that looked as though the world had taken all it could from him.

###

"I know you, you know. Or, at least, I knew who you were in my world."

Harry had calmed somewhat, his cheeks now bright with the memories of his display only moments before and a mug of tea clutched in his hands as Pansy combed her fingers through his hair where she stood behind his seat. Much to his dismay, scowling did little to deter the woman and whining only made her tug more harshly in an attempt to style his wayward curls. Where Sirius and his father had gone, he wasn't sure, but Harry was now left alone in the living room with the woman, an intense Draco Malfoy and the three other men lounging in various chairs about the room.

Ron was seated the closest, his hands tucked between his thighs and his mouth opening every so often as though he wished to speak, only to snap it shut when Harry looked his way. Much to the green-eyed man's amusement, this Ron's ears blushed the same ferocious red as his own friend's. Gregory Goyle had offered him one strange look of speculation before dragging down a book from the many that decorated the shelves and lapsing into a silence. It was a strange sight, indeed, the one of Gregory Goyle enjoying a bit of light reading. The third member, the blonde with dark eyes, cupped his chin in his hands, his mouth twisted in thought and his eyes locked somewhere beyond Harry; another soul who longed to question him, no doubt, but was either too embarrassed or too shy to.

A creature who shared none of this apparent shyness was the vampire Draco Malfoy. The blonde was sat before him on the carpet, an action Harry couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at as it was an act Harry was certain the old Malfoy would have turned his nose up at. This Malfoy sat cross-legged on the floor quite happily, his hands draped across his lap and his spine straight as he studied Harry through those unnerving scarlet eyes without blinking. The dark haired youth had supplied the information purely in the hopes the blonde might stop his creepy interrogation.

Malfoy blinked slowly, his head tilting to one side to drop a heavy amount of silken hair against his front. "You knew me in your world. Was I as fortunate to be your friend, little one?"

The endearment was one that Harry's befuddled brain could not decide what to make of; somehow sounding special in this Malfoy's voice even though it held the memories of a voice far more snide and with a lot more bitterness. This vampire was clearly an altogether different beast to the tormenting presence that had been Harry's old rival and he wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge.

"Not exactly..." Harry's lips twitched in a smile, "You're a prat."

The response granted him a raised blonde eyebrow and an unexpected giggle of amusement from the woman still toying with his hair.

"He's a prat here, too." Pansy supplied helpfully, uncaring of the hiss Malfoy aimed in her direction, his lips pulling back over snow white teeth to bare his fangs. Harry found himself entranced, his own lips parting.

"How did you become a vampire?"

That seemed to startle Draco, his lips settling into a small 'o' of surprise and his eyes darting back to stare at Harry. "I am not a vampire where you come from?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope," he sighed, "you're a bully and you like pushing people about and you insulted my friends so we were kind of enemies from the start. We were... I wouldn't call it getting along but, putting up with one another the last time I saw you. You came back to finish your studies in Hogwarts with a few other Slytherins and you thanked me for speaking up for you and your mother so she wasn't put in Azkaban for helping Voldemort."

"My mother and I helped Voldemort?" Draco's voice had become a violent drawl, cold and stilling the fingers in Harry's hair. He shifted, feeling almost as if he had said something he should not have.

"No, not exactly. Your father helped and supported Voldemort, your mother and you just kinda were forced into it. She saved me... When Voldemort tried to kill me in the forest. Without her help, I'd be dead and the whole Wizarding world could have been under his reign." Harry watched the blonde's features relax, his scowling mouth settling into something of a curious pout before he reached a hand forward to toy with the edge of the blanket Harry was still wrapped in, drawing a furious blush from the smaller boy. Had the old Draco Malfoy been just as tactile?

"My father was one of the men placed under a mind spell with Voldemort's first rise to power, when I was still a babe. Like a fraction of the other men, his mind broke beneath the strain when Voldemort's soul was shattered by Neville. Though my mother tried to care for him and raise me at the same time, it became too much for her and she agreed to sign him into the care of St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. It is, perhaps, a better faith for him than the one that has been dealt him in your world. At least where he is now he is at peace, even if he does not understand it." Draco glanced upwards, his nose perking with the scent of blind fascination that came from the younger boy. It was as unrestrained as the happiness of a child, or the giddiness of a pup and Draco found it almost bizarre coming from such a fragile war hero. Draco had never known a Beta's scent to be so... strong...

He continued with a gentle tilt to his lips, his fingers working slowly against the soft cotton edge of the blanket.

"When I was nine, mother brought into my life a man who would teach me to be a Wizard in place of my father. It is the right of all pureblood's to learn the very basics of magic before their entry into Hogwarts, as she said. Her attempt to nurture me was, perhaps, misguided as she sought out a man renowned for his talent and name. Had she believed that he would see in me his prodigy and a means of continuing his line, it is doubtful she would have ever brought him into my life. Regardless, the man was a born vampire, birthed as so few true vampires are. He could not control his instincts once they had decided upon an heir, much to my mother's dismay."

Draco stilled as he caught sight of Harry's grimace, the boy's green eyes wide with distress. He frowned. "I am unsure how it works in your world, little one, but I assure you what I am is of no misfortune. It is an honour to be seen as an heir for a true vampire, to become one myself. I carry not only my father's name but also the name of my mentor and Sire. Though mother was against it, believing the man would steal away her only child, even she has come to appreciate it."

Draco's fingers trailed to their destination, tugging the cup from Harry's frozen hands and clasping one within his own with a bright grin. "My counterpart is a fool for throwing away friendship with someone as fascinating as you, little one, and I would be honoured to introduce you to a side of me that you clearly have never seen."

Harry stared at the pale hand nestled with his own, Malfoy's perfectly manicured nails and soft skin so odd against his own blunt fingernails and the calluses he bore from training and riding his broom. He blinked at the man sat before him, his lips tugging upwards of their own accord.

"Nice to meet you, then, I'm Harry James Potter." He supplied with a chuckle.

Sharp teeth flashed brightly, blood red eyes locking with his own. "A pleasure, Mr. Potter. My name is Draco Malfoy-Snape."

Harry's smile froze, another name from his past that should have no reason to be cropping up in the present. Snape was as dead as his father and Godfather, a man Harry could now forgive and acknowledge as brave; if not somewhat misguided. Was this version of Malfoy trying to tell him that Snape was not only still alive but a vampire? A born vampire? How the hell did that work? His Snape had never been a Vampire...

"Severus Snape?"

Malfoy was toying with his hand absently, his eyes locked on the pale skin as he turned Harry's limb over in his fingers, cataloguing each scar with a slant to his gaze. He glanced up at Harry briefly, before switching his attention to the other hand. "Yes, you mentioned him in your story, I had assumed you knew him. Though, why he would be at Hogwarts and find himself battling your Godfather and Remus, I have no idea."

"He was my potion's professor, he went to school with my dad, to Hogwarts." Harry tried to pull his fingers back, only for a sudden tightening of the vampire's grip and a flash of red to let him know that he was probably safest leaving it where it was, much as it embarrassed him. Pansy's fingers had long since left his hair, her curious face now watching him from where she sat lounged on the armrest of Ron's chair.

"Truly?" Malfoy hummed in thought, sliding one soft thumb against Harry's wrist.

"Yeah," Harry frowned, "he wasn't a vampire though. Born or made, he was just Snape. He hated me, 'cause he hated my dad who bullied him and because he loved my mother, who chose my dad over him. He never loved anyone after her... I saw his memories, you know? Of the day he found her dead... So much pain... In the end, he tried to protect me from it all. He wanted to save what was left of my mother and it hurt him all over again when Dumbledore told him that I would have to die so Voldemort could be killed." Harry felt Draco's hands withdraw, the blonde frowning up at him with an expression Harry could not determine as either good or bad. "He was a good man."

"Was?" Draco sounded almost pained, his eyes bleeding to a darker crimson.

Harry nodded slowly, grasping his hands to himself once more. "He gave me his memories so his death wouldn't be for nothing. So I would know. Ever since, he's been one of the people I regret losing in the war, because I never really knew him beyond the hate he had for my father and I never got to thank him."

"Thank who? Draco, do refrain from weeping all over our bond, if you would? It is most unbecoming."

Harry all but leapt out of his skin, his head snapping up to stare at the man that had just come through the double doors, his voice as strange to Harry's senses as Sirius' had been even if it held an accent it had never held before.

Severus Snape, only it almost wasn't.

The man stood before him now was taller, held upright with a confidence his old Professor simply had not possessed. His thin frame looked elegant beneath the black pants and equally black shirt he wore, the only part of his snow white skin on display the pale hands braced on his hips and a face that had haunted Harry's nightmares for weeks. Narrow, sharp and with a regal nose that had most definitely not belonged on the face of the old potions master, it was blank as it surveyed the room before landing firstly on Harry and then on the blonde sat on the floor. Snape's blood-red eyes rolled heaven-ward, a strand of soot-black hair falling from the clasp holding it all at the nape of his neck. "'Ow many times must I tell you not to sit on ze floor like a commoner, Draco?"

The French accent was one Harry had definitely not been expecting. He stared up at Snape, well aware that his mouth was agape and his eyes were no doubt as wide as saucers. He was frozen as he watched the man pull the blonde from his seat with one pale hand around his arm before pushing him instead into the side of the couch that Harry was not currently occupying. With a flick of curiosity in his direction, the tall vampire crouched before the younger man, red eyes locked with red.

"What 'as you so upset, mon étoile?" The man's dark voice had softened, his pale fingers tipping Draco's chin until the boy's crimson eyes had faded to a dull ruby. Draco sighed, casting a glance towards Harry before opening his mouth to spill fluid French.

Harry watched them speak, catching nothing in the rapid, foreign language despite Fleur's best efforts to teach him a handful of French words. It was bizarre. Stranger, perhaps, than even seeing his father alive was witnessing such a strong family bond between Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. The blonde's voice was lilting with his emotions and Snape's lips softened in a smile of comfort that Harry knew for certain had not graced his Snape's lips in many, many years.

"Why are you French?" Harry leaped on a sudden lull in the conversation, his curiosity dragging holes in his common sense even as Snape's red eyes focused on him, one dark eyebrow quirked in what could only be amusement.

"You are so very little to be creating such a big fuss, young one." The teasing of Snape's tone went over Harry's head and he flushed, one hand lifting to tug a fistful of dark hair only for the action to be halted with a sharp slap to his wrist that had him yelping and pulling away from the blonde now sat beside him.

"You'll go bald, stop pulling your hair." Draco's voice was a growl, the blonde crossing his arms stiffly as he watched his mentor pull a stool before the younger boy.

"I am French," Severus spoke with an indulgent smile as he sat, "because zat is where I was raised, little one. Zough I was born to my mother here in England, ze Council believed I would benefit ze most beneath zeir watchful eyes. Now, be still a moment."

Draco ignored the glare the youth aimed in his direction when he struck his fingers from his hair once more, a tick twitching the corner of his mouth with the amount of venom forced into that one stare. Yes, that was definitely a glare brought on from years of practice. His eyes followed Severus' hands as his Sire pulled a tiny vial filled with the tranquil blue of a calming draught from his pocket and handed it to Harry, shaking his head when the boy clutched his hands to himself and looked at the potion warily.

To think, there existed a world in which Severus had been nothing more to him than a Professor and had died while Draco himself was still in school. To think there could exist a world where Severus had not been more than a father to him, his life ended in one blow. It was inconceivable. Were Draco to imagine a life where Severus had not guided him, had not mentored him and helped him and held him when he cried... well, with such a life as that then Draco could fully understand why his counterpart had become nothing more than a bully guided by anger and hate. The overbearing world of a Pureblood had been a world spared from him by only Severus' presence and his mother's loving nature. He knew that Tommy and Pansy and Gregory were not so lucky, proven by their increasing presence in the house they had been staying in.

"Do not think so much, Draco. You will 'urt yourself."

The blonde sneered at the remark, his mind calming as he noticed it for what it was. Severus was alive and well, a born Omegan vampire with great pull in the Council and an award winning potions master to boot. He was not going anywhere, anytime soon. Draco's eyes trailed over the fragile figure now resting beneath the pull of a forceful calming draught, his green eyes lidded and becoming heavier by the moment. The boy's full lips were parted in a sigh, his pale cheeks flushed in a pink hue that had Draco captivated. 

Pretty little thing...

Red eyes snapped to Severus when the man stood, chuckling. "James will not be so accepting of your thoughts, mon étoile." His amusement rang clearly through the blood bond that connected them, mixing with the vague feelings of interest that centred solely around the mysterious Harry Potter as Draco watched him. He spared his Sire only a quirked eyebrow before returning his sights to the boy curled in on himself. James held no claim over this one... As much as he may view Harry as his own son, this was a young man who had grown without a father's stern rule and Draco couldn't imagine he would be susceptible to it if James attempted to order him around. Not that the gentle man would even attempt such a thing.

There was a muffled thump, as though someone had fallen hands first through the floo connection above their heads, before the sound of harried steps on old stairs filled the house and James' voice cursed expletives as he came through the floo soon after. Panicked breaths registered to Draco's ears, his head tilting as he listened to the sound of running footsteps seconds before the wide-eyed, gasping figure of none other than Lily Potter stood in the doorway.

The redhead wore her sleepwear still, a robe thrown about her shoulders haphazardly and her auburn waves ruffled with sleep. Her green eyes, however, held little in the way of self-consciousness and focused solely on the one thing that would cause her to react in such an undignified, chaotic manner.

It had to be a joke, her mind insisted, a brutal prank that would rip away whatever progress she had made in the sixteen years since her baby boy had left her. There was no way... No way her son could return to her in any shape or form, in this world or any other. Her husband's story had been the work of nightmares, fabricated from a depraved mind as surely as Sirius assurances had been. She needed to see for sure. She needed to know they were lying to her and she had run from their outstretched arms and Remus' tear-stained face. 

It had to be a joke... It had to be... Her little boy was gone. He was long gone, why would she do this to herself? Why did her heart flutter with the weakest imitation of hope when she skidded to a halt in the living room of Grimmauld Place and her eyes immediately found the tiny figure wrapped in a blanket with a shock of jet-black hair that almost sent her to her knees with the memories.

She moved forward step by shaking step, her hands fisted beside her and her eyes pinned on the young boy who looked a great deal short of eighteen as he shifted in his magic-induced sleep, his pale face turning towards her and his lips parted on a little sigh, in the way they did every night when she had put him to bed.

And though her mind was suddenly frozen with the facts that this could not be her son and was not her son and had never been her son; Lily saw only the boy's sweet face and snub nose and wayward curls that she leaned forward to brush from his forehead with a quaking hand. She saw only the violent scar that marred his pale skin and the hands that clutched at the blanket, as though her touch had frightened him and something had struck him in his young life that she could no longer protect him from.

Her son... Lily felt her knees give in, would have connected with the hard floor if Severus had not gripped her waist and tugged her backwards onto a stool. Her son, Lily let her face drop into her hands, her sobs not waking the young boy but drawing a supporting grip from Pansy and a wince from the others.

Her son.


	4. 4

"Personally, I see nothing but bad coming from him staying here."

"You absolute beast, Gregory," Pansy growled, slapping her wand down on the counter-top so that the spoon stirring the pot of soup fell to one side. She glared at the man stood beside her chopping vegetables, his hulking form one of the least intimidating things to someone who understood the calm, peace keeping brain at work behind the muscle. "How can you say that? You, of all people!"

The man tensed, his brown eyes slanting in a glare at the shorter girl before he rolled his eyes and continued on with his task. "It's not as though I'm saying it to be cruel. Truly, I like the kid, I think he's someone who could be a good friend to us all; at the same time you really have to consider just how much of a danger magnet he must be. I mean, we went to school with Neville and despite his title he was no different from the rest of us, protected from the war, never told what was going on. As far as we were concerned, nothing could harm us. Until Neville took his own life, the war seemed like something that would never touch us. You know how treasured children are."

"Your point being?" Pansy replied snidely, flicking the stove off with a turn of her fingers and gathering her hair in one hand to throw into some semblance of a bun.

"Well," Greg put down his knife, glancing up to watch Ron and Tommy set the table, an unhelpful Draco lounging in the window seat to one side and shouting directions when his eyes were not trailing over the sunlit garden outside. "Think about it. Obviously, where he's from the war involved children. It made them fight, made them terrified; their teachers could not even protect them. Setting aside how insane that is on its own, what kind of damage would that do to a kid his age? I know there are children in this world who are mentally abused from a young age, I being one of them, but we are few and far between and I have always had Professor Dumbledore and Slughorn to fall back on, and others when we became a part of the Order at nineteen. I never had to deal with it alone and I have a home to turn to when my parents attempt to interfere now."

He turned to look at the girl squinting up at him, her mouth pulled in a tight scowl. "This boy has had no such backing. Even you, when your parents attempted to force you apart from Ron, could counter with leaving home and staying here unless they changed their minds. What second home did he have to run to? All I am saying is that his mentality is unstable at best from what I can gather of his background and home life. I'm not saying to cast him out on the streets, just that reservations must be held with regards to trusting him entirely."

Pansy sighed, her shoulders slumping beneath the heavy material of her pullover. "It's hard not to feel sorry for the boy... Neville may have had a normal school life and every adult fighting for him, but I still remember the nightmares he had near the end. They came on so suddenly, and he said it was as like you-know-who himself was in his mind, whispering to him, showing him horrible things. Harry suffered more even than that when he was just a little boy."

"He's stronger than you're giving him credit for. The both of you."

Draco watched them turn towards him, their faces a mask of both pity and wariness. One too willing to trust and the other not willing at all, it was an opposition of opinions that could, if treated badly, grow into something far nastier. He stood from his perch by the sill, stretching his arms before his body and watching the play of sunlight against his pale skin; the perks of being heir to a true vampire. The blonde crossed his limbs swiftly. "He is strong. His mind is not broken from years of abuse, it would show too easily in his eyes. He desires above all else to live and that desire has lent him a strength beyond his years. Do not attempt to coax a reaction from him Greg, if the power I can smell on him when he is distressed is a fraction of what he possesses; even as an Alpha, you would end up the worst off from the confrontation. And Pansy, you know better than to coddle people. In my opinion, he does not need your sympathy or your observations on how damaged he may be, he needs only a friendly hand."

"And this has nothing got to do with the way you were staring at him while he was asleep on the couch?" Ron was grinning, his freckled nose wrinkled in mirth as he put down the last plate. Tommy snorted beside him, his golden blonde hair tousled with the many times he ran his hands through it.

"Yeah, Draco," the shorter blonde smiled up at him, "the googly eyes you were making 'till Severus took him upstairs weren't exactly 'only friendly'."

"Desist, you nuisance," Draco hissed, swatting the small yellow-haired man with a good-natured backhand to the head. "I'll admit it, he intrigues me."

"Is that what you're calling it now, is it?" 

The Beta squealed as he was grabbed in a headlock, his hair mussed further by a pale, slender hand before a thickly accented bark from the other room had Draco releasing him and backing up like a wounded puppy. There were both perks and downfalls to being mentally attached to a man of Severus' eloquence. Reckless and childish though Draco tended to be, the older vampire would never be far enough away to allow the man to get himself into danger or show himself up in the eyes of the media. It was a fraction of a curse when that strive for perfection bled into other aspects of Draco's life, such as when he was with his friends.

Tommy coughed awkwardly, black eyes darting towards the window when Severus' scowling face appeared around the door and glared in their direction. "And just what do you zink you are doing, behaving like a wild dog who 'as been unleashed from 'is lead? Desist your play acting, Draco, or I will 'ave no option but to return you to our 'ome. And you, Mr. Pettigrew, your father may 'ave ruined 'is name, but you are your mother's only 'ope of showing zis damnable society zat blood counts for little when doing what is right is in question. Behave yourselves!"

Tommy shrunk back, his blonde waves dropping over one dark eye as he tipped his head. Family was a sore subject with him at the best of times. Though he adored his mother and prayed she was happy living with her sister in America, the neglect he had suffered from her subservient ways and inability to be responsible had often left him in the care of others his whole life. When his father had been imprisoned for following He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the woman had become a wreck, certain that no husband of hers could ever deceive her in such a monumental way. For years, his father had sought to help a madman who wanted to eradicate all that was different from the purity of Wizarding society and neither of them had known. Just as he had obviously done something wrong in the world this new boy had come from, so had Peter Pettigrew been a bad man in the reality that had been Tommy's life. Pleasant, if distant, to his son, that had not stopped him from bringing danger and suspect down upon his family and then leaving them for life in Azkaban. Had he not begged his mother to leave him with the Order, with the men who had raised him, Tommy believed he would have succumbed to her unending cycle of love and hate for a man she had given everything to and gotten nothing but heartache in return. At least, with the Order, Tommy had a purpose and the logic of knowing that his father was not an extension of himself.

Cold hands gripped his face, fingers tipping his chin upwards as a gentle voice tsked above him. Watery black eyes found a set of similarly dark orbs surrounded by flawless pale skin. Severus shook his head, his thumb stroking against the soft skin of Tommy's jaw. "I mean not to upset you, sweet one. I mean only to remind you of ze 'onour you so rightly deserve to carry. Hold your 'ead 'igh, Thomas.

"You, 'owever!" The older man whirled, gripping Draco by the ear in one fluid motion and dragging the lanky blonde closer, "You, I expect to 'ang your 'ead in shame! What 'ave I said about physical displays of violence, serious or not? You set a bad example for the children you may one day 'ave running around your feet when you resort to man-'andling another person, with or without zeir consent."

"I doubt he'd mind man-handling Harry."

"Ronald Weasley, must I remind you zat lowering your voice to a quiet murmur is pointless with a vampire in ze room?" The statement was spoken with a weary sigh, Severus' fingers leaving Draco to pinch the bridge of his nose as the redhead leaning against the counter beside Pansy turned a shade of puce. "It would be wise of you to take Ms. Parkinson and let Molly know what 'as transpired. Is your sister not trained as a Mediwitch? I do not doubt zat Ginevra will offer the boy a far better treatment than any 'e may receive from simply taking my nutrient potions."

Ron's ears were still a vibrant scarlet as he dragged Pansy from the room to make use of the floo. Draco watched them go with a glare. "You're surrounding him with too many people, it is unkind to force him into these situations. Despite everything he has gone through, he's only a kid."

Though he understood completely the need to let as many trusted people as they could know what had transpired last night, it did not sit well with him that the fragile little thing that was sleeping soundly upstairs would soon be mobbed by familiar strangers, or outright strangers if the paths of his reality had gone a separate way. James, Sirius and Tonks had already left that morning to discuss the occurrence with the Minister and would no doubt return come evening with a wagon-load of Officials and even a few Unspeakables. Those people put his very teeth on edge. What right would they have to poke and prod at the little one who so obviously needed just a simple chance to breathe. Draco's only easing thought was that, in the eyes of all who would look at him, Harry was barely matured, almost a child despite his years and war scarring. It was evident in his scent, the barely-there aroma of the Beta's pale skin, when he was not upset. If there was one thing that existed in this world that had not in the boy's own, it was that children were revered with the upmost importance, a crucial group to protect and shelter. The birth rate was so low compared to what it had been when Omegas were in abundance, and so many more grew up sickly and fell to illness; to even consider harming a child... Those who did were often punished, and so few in numbers that a vast majority of their children already belonged to the Order. 

"'E is not a child though, you understand zat, do you not?"

Draco blinked, red eyes taking in the suddenly empty dining room. How long had he been lost in his own internal rant? He turned to take in the sight of his mentor leaning against the open window, face upturned against the weak, September sun.

"By Wizarding law, he's an adult. He's reached the age of majority. By those who will judge him by outward appearance, he is a kid. He's barely matured into his own body, his scent isn't even his own yet. Years of neglect have damaged and weakened him. He is small, he's young in everything but a wariness for what he doesn't know. How can you look at him and not think he is something to be protected?"

"I never said zat." Severus smirked, ruby eyes glancing at Draco through dark lashes. "'E is most certainly in need of strong guidance and a firm hand to show 'im not everyone wishes to lead 'im wrongly. Zat being said," Severus' gaze slanted, "I still do not view 'im as a child. 'Is eyes are too keen, too tired to be ze eyes of a child."

Draco's own eyes narrowed, his head tilting to one side as he listened to the sound of Gregory and Tommy moving about the house, Remus and Lily safely tucked out of earshot in the rooms upstairs as they waited for Harry to wake. "I am enamoured by him," the blonde admitted, voice soft and mouth drawn down in a grimace, "But your line will perish with him if I were to pursue him... He's a Beta, a strong one, but one nonetheless."

Severus shrugged, his lips tugging in a smile as he moved to walk from the room. "Your childhood bond was weakened to me ze moment you laid eyes on zat boy, I felt it. My only 'ope now is that you do not ruin a potential bond wiz the mate you are pining for. The choice 'as always been yours, Draco. I seek only your 'appiness." The older vampire paused as he passed the blonde, his eyes soft and his hands lifting to cup the tall boy's face gently. 

"You deserve a little 'appiness. If a line ends, a line ends. So be it. "

###

Harry's eyes were open before sound had begun to sink into his conscious mind, scanning the small room. His hands moved to push his body from the plush bed until legs unstable with sleep made him crumple to the floor and drag his quilts with him. The sudden snap from dreamless sleep to awake was done with barely a noise to notice it by, his body kneeling against the carpeted floor as cautious eyes stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling, uncomprehending and blurred still with the remnants of sleep.

It wasn't until his almost soundless escape from the sheets that entangled him brought a ghost to his bedroom door that Harry's new reality came down on him like a bucket of ice cold water.

"Remus."

The man that could have been no other than Remus Lupin also couldn't possibly be the professor Harry had loved and respected. This man looked younger by several years, at least half a decade below the age he believed the new Sirius to be and with skin that positively glowed with good health. His cheeks were rounded with a lifetime of healthy eating, his body slender and swift, devoid of the weariness the old Remus had carried so heavily upon his shoulders. Had his bright eyes not been the vibrant gold of his wolf, Harry would have mistaken the man for human, so... natural did he appear with his soft brown hair cut in a neat bob around his fresh face. 

Harry watched him shut the door with a gentle click, his lips spread in a blinding smile over his perfect teeth as he all but scampered across the room and flung himself quietly and soundly down on the floor beside the younger man. Before the reality of the man's sudden jump in status from dead to living could even sink in, Harry was being embraced by his old mentor, arms seeming just as familiar now as they had done all those times he had comforted Harry in the past.

When Remus drew back, it was with eyes almost blinded by tears, his hands coming up to wipe the stains from his cheeks as a self-deprecating chuckle fell softly from his lips. "Sorry," he laughed, "Merlin, you don't even know me and here I am. Oh, Harry... You've no idea what seeing you means to me, to us. Alive and well."

"Seeing me?" Harry's own voice had broken, his lips clamping shut to avoid the tremble. He hiccuped, diving forward to wrap his arms around the man's neck. Stranger or no, this would always be the man who had raised his hopes after Sirius had passed, who had gone into battle with him as a friend. "Remus, you're dead," Harry sobbed, "where I come from, you're dead. You and Tonks and you left him behind just like I was left behind when my parents died. I can't believe..."

"Shh, Harry, shh, dearest," Remus stroked a hand against the boy's knotted hair, combing through the mess with long fingers, "it'll all be alright now, my strong, little godson." His Harry was as beautiful as he had been as a baby, as a child; those round eyes still a brilliant green and his scent just as comforting. That he had come from an alternate world made little difference to the beast inside Remus, this was the cub that had been entrusted to them should anything happen to James or Lily. Though he smelled different and fragile and older than the memory of the child's scent in his mind; this was his cub as surely as his own son was.

"Godchild?" Harry drew back, a frown embedded in his pale skin, "I thought Sirius was my Godfather?"

"Yes, Sirius and I both, just like James promised. I... I wasn't where you came from?" The thought was one that didn't sit well with Remus, his inner beast protesting the notion that James could have left him out in any world. Where there was Sirius, there was also Remus, James knew that. The pair were soul-mates, romantic, lovesick fools bonded since before their graduation from Hogwarts. Why christen one Godfather and exclude the other? It was... worse than cruelty.

"Well, no," Harry was shaking his head, "I don't think I ever had a Godmother but Sirius was my only Godfather. I think I was meant to go to you if anything happened to him but it didn't work out that way... Dumbledore needed me with Aunt Petunia."

Remus drew up short, eyes wide and confused before his lip pulled back in a snarl. "That's ridiculous. Why would you go to me if something happened to Sirius? We live together, we've been together most of our lives, why would going to one be different from going to the other... Oh." Gold eyes flared wide as the scent of Harry's shock filtered to him. 

"That's why." The werewolf breathed, his mouth falling open in a pained sigh. "Sirius and I were never bond-mates in your world, were we?"

Harry watched the youthful man press a shaking hand to his lips, his eyes brimming once more with fresh tears as he choked down a sob. His Godfather and Remus were living together? Not only living together, but practically married? How in Merlin's name had that happened?

"No," Harry scooted closer to Remus, taking one of the man's clenching fists, "No, I don't think ye were ever together like that. Sirius was never with anyone permanently, he spent a great deal of his life in Azkaban and died a few years after he escaped. And you, you didn't marry Tonks 'till a couple of years ago and Teddy was only a baby when ye both passed in the war."

"Tonks?" Remus' laughter was disbelieving, his golden eyes bright with tears. The man shook his head, his smile bemused if a little strained. "God forbid. Tonks is a lovely girl, but heavens, no. I would be half the man I am without Sirius." Harry couldn't help but agree with him there. Especially if this Remus was the same age as Sirius, life with the dark haired prankster had clearly done wonders for him.

"And Teddy? Who's Teddy?"

"Your son," Harry smiled, thinking fondly of the little baby with the shock of lightning blue hair and vivid pink eyes. He had barely caught a glimpse the last time he had seen his little godson before Andromeda had had to leave. "He's the cutest little kid, was barely a few months old when you passed. You made me Godfather, you know, but we decided it would be best if his grandmother raised him, considering I was so young. I'd never have taken him away from her."

Remus snorted, shaking his head. His life had clearly been a roller coaster of a ride in this strange alternate world. "Young or not, anyone as kind as you would be able to take care of a child." A hand lifted to ruffle Harry's curls and the small boy offered back a small smile. Remus grinned back. "I had my Philip when I was only sixteen and he's turned out positively incredible. A published scholar already and travelling the world to discover new creatures and he's only twenty-eight. My youth did him no harm and nor did it take away from my life. I do wish I could have had more though..."

Harry's brow furrowed, tilting his head back to take in the man before him. "You mean you adopted? With Sirius?"

Remus hummed, smiling as he scooted closer on the floor rug to lean his abck against the bed frame. "No, no. I gave birth to Philip, I know my scent isn't much to go on nowadays, with the new wolfsbane potion being so strong, but I'm still an Omega."

The word was a foreign one, Harry's eyes squinting in the dim room lit only by the weak light filtering through a half-drawn curtain. "Men can't give birth... What's an Omega? Is that something to do with the Werewolf?"

Remus huffed a laugh, mouth twisting before he seemed to realise that Harry was being sincere, his gold eyes growing big. "Omegas." He straightened, peering down at the young boy who looked up at him cluelessly. "Alphas, Betas, Omegas... None of those words make sense to you?"

Harry shook his head, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. "No, sorry," The young Beta glanced up at him, "Is it a werewolf thing? I didn't know male werewolves could give birth. That's kind of incredible."

Remus almost smiled, his eyes baffled. Did the dynamics not exist in the world Harry had come from? Could that be why the Beta's scent was so weak, so easily missed despite them being side by side? If so, that would mean the boy would need a biology lesson down the road, and an explanation if they were to take him out in public. An offended Alpha was not something the boy would want to draw on himself, being the size of Beta he was. Though they didn't go through heats and ruts as the two opposing genders did, Harry was still going to have to come to terms with a whole new aspect of life. Could he even scent? 

"Maybe this is a conversation we can have later? I'm sure we can ask your father if he can sit in on that particular talk... But, yes, I did have a son. Granted I had him a little young, but once I realised Sirius felt for me what I felt for him, we bonded almost instantly. I have an old picture of Philip that I always keep on me, look."

Harry watched the brunette dig through his very muggle-looking denim jeans, pulling a faded wallet from one and digging through until his fingers closed around a square bit of card worn with age. He took it with wary hands when Remus thrust it in front of him and stared down at the giggling scene of a five year old boy that flickered up at him. On a background of grass, the young child was coloured a healthy bronze from the sun, his bare arms slathered in snow-white sun lotion and his rosy cheeks flushed with the force of his chuckles. The child bore some resemblance to Teddy, without a doubt that was Remus' round chin and wide eyes. However this child's eyes were a static bronze that blinked happily up at the camera and his nose was a degree sharper, his jet black curls framing his pretty face in a way that bared a striking resemblance to one Sirius Black.

Remus had a different son that he had given birth to himself.

Remus was bonded to Sirius. They were both alive and together and happy.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his eyes misting. "He's beautiful, Remmy."

Remus clapped a hand across his lips, his own breath breaking in an almost-sob. "Oh," the brown haired man chuckled, pulling Harry close, "the other Harry used to call me that," he chuckled, "as a toddler, Merlin, I thought I'd never hear it again, cub."

Harry rubbed his nose as he moved back, reality sinking in around him like the most comfortable of blankets. Everything seemed... perfectly alright here. "I thought I'd never hear you call me cub again." Harry shook his head at the surrealness of it all. He had met a father he had known he would never meet or know in his own time. He had been reunited with a father-figure he had watched die and never come back. Now, Remus was before him showing proof of the wonderful, happy life he had had simply with one little photo and the health in his features. For a fleeting moment, the thought that he would never again go home, didn't seem like a bad one.

"Remus, did I hear you talking to someone?"

Green eyes pulled away from Remus' smiling face, his own lips tugging upwards as he turned to see who had spoken and for a lifetime, his world froze. 

The figure in the door had his heart exploding in his chest. The logic of his mind understanding that he should have expected this, was nothing compared to the earth-shattering realisation that the matured, pretty-faced woman now stood hesitantly in the doorway was none other than Lily Potter; his mother.

There was no time to consider that this woman may not want to see the sight of him lest it remind her of a son long since dead. There was no logic left in him to play this out in a manner she might prefer, his body had moved with a speed he hadn't known he was capable of. His mind, hardened from years of war tactics and abuse, had recessed to little more than the mind of a child losing their mother for the first time. Every nerve in Harry's body was alight with the fact that she was alive, she was real. His mother was there in front of him and he could hold her for the first time in his life.

He crumpled at her feet, his arms a bruising force around her legs and his sobs destroying whatever voice he tried in vain to use to sound out every thought he needed her to hear. This was his mother. It didn't matter that this was a different woman, it didn't matter that she had raised and put to rest a different son and might not even want him, the only reasoning that kept Harry's magic from sparking a fire against his skin was that this was Lily Potter and Lily Potter was his.

"Mum... Mum,mum,mum,mum..."

Remus stood with a tortured stare, his cub's pitiful whining as he wrapped himself around his mother's legs like a terrified child striking at the very core of his heart. No boy should have to cling to a parent's legs as though they would vanish if they loosened their grip. No boy's painstaking wails should sound like a tortured infants about to be ripped from his mum's arms. The crying brought nearly every member of the household to the landing to discover the source of the sound, and the heartbreaking sight of a Harry Potter lost to his own destructive thoughts and terrified tears.

Lily stood frozen, her green eyes blown wide and leaking tears that fell, unnoticed, down her cheeks. She bore the heart-wrenching cries for the barest minute before she was dragging the skinny youth to his feet, his short stance half a foot below her average height. She clutched him like she had clutched her own son to her chest all those years ago when they had found his blue-tinged body tucked into his bedsheets. 

Her Harry. Her son. Hers.

"Oh my poor boy, my beautiful son, what did they do to you?" 

She sobbed the words, refusing to release her hold on the sobbing boy until Severus and Draco had no choice but to lift the both of them and force them onto the bed instead of the cold, open doorway. Remus felt Sirius' questioning thrum once more through their bond with this new wave of pain, his thoughts steadying to allow his bondmate some sort of peace of mind. He turned to find a distraught, wide-eyed Molly Weasley clasping her hands in the doorway. With a weary sigh, Remus tilted his head to indicate the redhead be with her friend and son before beckoning Severus out to help him get the rest of the Weasley hoard in some semblance of order.


	5. 5

Her hands worked their way through hair that was as thick as it was soft, curling in soft waves that fell about his face in disarray and disorder. She combed through it, relishing in the simple act so long denied her with the loss of her baby boy.

Lily watched the eighteen-year-old tucked between her thighs, she watched his spindly arms unwind from her waist with painful slowness as, minute by minute, he relaxed. His pale face had taken on a greying tinge, unhealthy and unnatural on a youth that should look the part of a man; instead he looked more a lost child to her than her little son had ever been with his cheeky grin. Oh, what comfort could be garnered from the simple fact of knowing you were cared for and loved.

This youth was sickly, branded in a way only years of ill nutrition and neglect could do. Her Harry had already been surpassing her hip by the age of seven and, despite his bouts of illness, was strong and filled out with good food. To see any version of her son with wrists that seemed brittle enough to snap and clothes that clung from a petite frame and cheekbones a degree too sharp to be healthy was devastating. She would never forgive her sister and Vernon Dursley, not in this boy's reality nor her own. To know that any form of Petunia could destroy a child so thoroughly as to have him weep for a mother was sickening. Her son should have wanted for nothing.

"Stand up, pet, let me have a look at you."

Lily blinked, green eyes focusing in the brightened room as Molly stood suddenly, her smile cheery as she drew back the curtains. Harry stood as though it was a request he was well used to, his own smile a degree less dreary as he turned his haunting green eyes from Lily to the shorter redhead. Molly hummed as she watched him, tugging at his loose shirt and wrapping her arms around his thin waist to test his body-weight. She smiled softly, patting his cheek as she withdrew.

"My, aren't you handsome? I'd say you looked just like your father if it weren't for that pretty smile and those big green eyes. Most definitely better looking than James, Lily, pet, wouldn't you agree?"

Lily chuckled at Harry's bright flush, his fingers plucking at the sleeve of his shirt until Lily's voice made him jump like a startled fawn. "Much more handsome, as I always knew he would be," she smiled warmly up at her son, before sighing, "but these clothes just won't do, Molly. He'll need a whole new set, enough jumpers to ward away the coming cold. I think a good stew is in order too, I'll have to see what Pansy had in mind for dinner. It wouldn't do for him to get sick."

"I never get sick," Harry grinned, his spine straightening with subtle pride before he gave a shaky laugh. "I mean, I've broken a few bones and been knocked unconscious a time or two, but I've never gotten so much as a cough. Madam Pomfrey always said I had the immune system of an ox."

It was a silly, little thing; a flyaway comment that meant little barr a sense of small accomplishment to the boy and yet something within Lily heaved a sigh of relief at the words. To think her Harry had been so strong and loved and had still succumbed to illness and passed; having to watch this fragile, delicate thing go the same way would have been more than her heart could have handled. Although...

"Unconscious!" Molly shrieked, tutting and pushing the boy towards the door before taking a hold of Lily's hand and all but dragging her friend from the bed. "That simply won't do! You need your strength, dear boy, you're far too skinny. Heavens, I'll feed you your weight in pastries if I have to get you to a decent size. Come on, we'll go help Pansy with the stew and I can get to work on a new jumper for you. And I know the perfect colour, too!" Molly cast a wink at Lily as the pair followed the smaller youth from the bedroom, Lily smiling back at her so wide she thought her jaws might split.

"Green." Harry said suddenly, drawing both women's attention as he turned on the staircase to offer the sweetest smile at Molly and his mother. "You always knit me something in green, Mrs. Weasley."

###

Harry watched Ron with something of a perplexed grin, smiling fondly at the gangly redhead that moved about Molly and Pansy in the large kitchenette as the two woman debated over the best ingredients to boost the healing properties of a homemade stew. It was a comfort to watch this Ron behave as any Ron would in any reality, with a healthy obsession for a home-cooked meal and a decent amount of fear instilled in him each time Molly turned the wooden spoon on him for sticking his finger in the bubbling soup. It would have been a completed picture, had it not been for the absence of one bushy-haired bookworm and the very surreal addition of the Slytherin beauty that was Pansy Parkinson.

As cold and self-centred as the woman had been in Harry's reality with her midnight black hair and suspicious scowl, she was as warm and welcoming in this one. Her lighter hair seemed to soften her sharp, aristocratic features and the smile that readily broke across her lips as Ron tried to edge past her to steal a spoonful sent an ache of strange familiarity through Harry.

She was no Hermione; that was for certain and Harry doubted whether she would ever replace the witch that had captured his heart and loyalty as a sister and a friend, but she was something new and something undeniably warm and witty with the words she flung so readily at the ever sarcastic Draco and the fool-hardy youth Harry had come to know was called Tommy.

Tommy was another newness. His black eyes were both familiar and a thousand miles from any aspect within his memory that Harry could pinpoint. They all but glittered with humour each time he let loose a snort of laughter from his position wedged between both Fred and George Weasley; a pair of men that Harry still found himself staring at despite his best attempts not to gawk. As perfectly in sync and wickedly filled with humour as they had been in his own world, the only fascinating difference was that it was now George rather than his older brother Bill who bore the eye-catching scarring from a werewolves claws. Light and fragile in the bright sunlight of the room, they crossed his forehead and left cheek in a mismatch of jagged lines, more perfectly healed than Bill's own had been. The sight was one both baffling and depressing enough to leave Harry unable to voice the question of how it had happened.

There was no Bill, no Charlie or Percy, though Harry was sure the men were old enough to have their own lives and his arrival, strange and as unprecedented as it had been, was not enough to warrant all lives to cease and focus on him. On the contrary, the attention was something he was least excited about, because he knew the limelight would fall upon him eventually, it always did.

"I don't suppose you were listening to a word I said, were you, mister?"

Ginny.

Harry turned to face the woman sat in front of him where he sat in an armchair with a grin, taking in the high ponytail and freckled nose and laughing eyes with no small amount of happiness. He loved her as sweetly as another person could love a friend and an ally they had gone to war with and fought beside. She had been a woman capable of piecing him back together, all the while knowing he would never return the love she had grown to feel for him. Ginny Weasley, no matter what form she took, would always be his friend.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I was daydreaming."

"Of course you were," Ginny raised one eyebrow, the wedding band on her finger glinting and stretching Harry's smile as she tucked away a lock of stray hair and rifled through the bag plonked on the floor before her. "Aha!" she chuckled, sitting back with a handful of slender vials coloured a vile yellow. "Don't make that face at me, mister, you are underweight to a painful degree and the only thing that is gonna strengthen your stomach enough for you to eat enough to gain fat quickly is this delightful little concoction. If I'm not mistaken, it's one of your inventions, Severus, is it not?"

The regal vampire stood by Harry's side like a shadow of a sentry, forgotten except for the moments of miniscule movement that reminded Harry of the bodyguard he seemed to have acquired in the strange new version of his potions professor. A pale hand shot out, black-clad legs bending until he had seated himself on the arm of Harry's chair, the yellow vial held before his face with a twist to his lips.

"Indeed, a new product. I was not aware zat the initial testing centres 'ad been successful. My gratitude, Mrs. Thomas, for informing me, I 'ad completely forgotten to enquire, I was so certain zat it would be a success."

"Thomas!" Harry snorted, his hands clapping before him in something akin to delight at the thought of his old dorm mate and Quidditch game speaker. "Oh, you married Dean! How is he? Is he as disgustingly charming in this world as he was in mine? Please tell me he's doing something amazing."

Ginny blinked, slowly as she handed the vials to Severus, her lips quirking in a smile as she shook her head. "I keep forgetting where it is you come from. It's like you're this whole new person we get to learn more about and meet and not someone who's lived a life with most of us for the past eighteen years. That's going to take some getting used to." The redhead reached out to ruffle Harry's hair, an act that would have left him horrified had it been his own Ginny, yet seemed almost motherly coming from the twenty-three year old woman who surpassed him by a scant inch and sat as professionally as her medicare background suggested.

"Dean works the second shop we opened up in Hogsmeade, with Seamus Finnegan." Fred's voice had Harry's attention snapping to him, the bright-eyed redhead sharing a look with his twin as the pair edged closer, pulling their chairs until they sat before the boy hardly anybody knew anything about. "It only opened a few months back but business was so good with Zonko's closing that we handed management over to our dear brother-in-law and he hired Seamus as deputy. Suited us fine, of course-"

"What with the shop in Diagon, we've enough on our plates. We split the profit and Dean's happier working for us than he ever was stuffed in that office at the ministry." George was grinning at him, his silvery scars something both fantastic and sad as he looked over Harry with calculating eyes. "But then, you seem to know so much about us, you'd know he'd be happier with us, wouldn't you? Did we have our shop in your world? Was dear old Pans generous enough to give us the loan we needed?" Pansy stuck her tongue out fondly, her wand held aloft as she measured food into separate bowls. Harry could do little to prevent the ache that had begun in his cheeks with the length of his smiling.

"You had a shop in Diagon, I gave you my winnings from the Triwizard Tournament to start it up. We needed a bit of humour in our lives and your shop did so much good for everyone. George back home was still going strong with it last I had seen him. Angelina takes care of most of the customer stuff, though, he prefers to work in back."

George frowned, his lips tugging down in a playful scowl. "What's the fun of working in back?" He shrugged in time with Fred, matching blue eyes turning on Harry and alight with curiosity that made them seem so much younger. Scarred though this George may have been, it was nothing compared to the half-man his counterpart had become back home without his twin by his side.

"Angelina?" Fred pursed his lips, "name rings a bell, but can't say she's ever made a lasting impression if we've ever come across her in person, has she, George? What about me then, Harry? Am I the face of our shop if this boring sod prefers to stay in the shadows?"

Before the thought could even register, Harry's hand had shot out, his fingers inches from the bright red shirt that the minutely smaller twin was clad in. In the sudden silence, Harry didn't hear his mother and Molly start to gather the other occupants of the room towards the dining table, he was blind beyond the smiling, if wary, face of Fred Weasley and the suddenly still form of George Weasley, rigid and upright where he sat by his brother's side.

"I missed you." Harry said instead of an answer that was sure to be more morbid than it was fascinating. This Fred was a very living thing, just like all the people before him in this world that Harry had come to write off as long gone. His blue eyes were bright in a way Harry had not seen before and George was healthy and vibrant in a way Harry believed he would never see again in the George back in his reality. The twins had been his brothers, his guides in all things mischievous and ultimately his friends. The smile Harry offered them both when Fred lifted a hand to clasp Harry's own was brilliant, wide enough to warrant a funny upward curl from the corner of George's mouth.

That was, until Harry found himself suddenly upright, a strong arm around his middle keeping him from toppling with the sudden movement as blonde hair tickled his cheek. Scowling, the youth peered upwards, only to find that Malfoy's gaze was not focused on him but on the two redheads seated side by side and smiling up at the vampire with all the innocence of a red-handed thief. There was a glint of something in those blue eyes for the barest moment before Remus' voice brought Harry's attention snapping towards the golden eyed werewolf.

"And just what have I told you two about antagonising Draco? Get over here and leave that poor boy alone!"

Twin scowls met with the vampires silent snarl as the pair stood, blue eye to blood-red eye, before George offered a sleek smile and reached out to ruffle a pale hand through Harry's hair. "See you around, pet."

Pet?

Fred followed his brother, sending a fleeting wink in Harry's direction that both amused and baffled him. What in Merlin's name was that about?

Before Harry could work the strange behaviour out for himself, he was all but carried to an empty seat beside Pansy and plonked softly on the hard wood, Draco's tall frame folding gracefully into the seat on his other side and smiling his thanks as a bowl was offered to him. Harry watched the blonde speak happily to Severus in French as the pair ate their meal, ignoring the bowl his mother was trying to push in front of him. He turned his eyes on the twins, watching their subtle hand gestures and grinning faces as the pair spoke to one another. Was there an ongoing feud between the trio that Harry was unaware of? Had he hurt Draco's feelings in some way by reaching out to the twins? Why was it bothering him that he might have hurt this Malfoy's feelings?

He opened his mouth to voice what might be an inappropriate question, though he cared very little so long as he got his answer; only for the image of Fred Weasley rolling up his sleeves with a scowl after spilling sauce on the cuff to force his mouth to snap shut. There, almost blended with the pale skin of the man's arm was a perfect crescent-shaped bite, large enough to have come only from the mouth of a very large dog. Or a wolf.

George's pale scarring caught his eye, Harry's mind blanking as the man turned to answer something Remus had said, the gold in the older man's eyes something familiar and glinting in the sunlit room. Green eyes locked with blue as disbelief painted Harry's features, George's smile quirking in that strange, unfamiliar way as his bright blue eyes flashed pale silver.

The twins were werewolves.


	6. 6

The Weasley family settled in to this Grimmauld place with as much familiarity as they had settled in to the one back home. 

Harry watched them follow through a routine as dinner came towards an end, Ron throwing the lounge room door open wide and nodding at Harry when he saw the younger boy's stare on him. 

He was following without a second thought, passing by his mother, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley where the women sat on stools by a counter, his mother's hand reaching out to rub his arm unwittingly. Harry froze for the briefest moment, eyes soft as he caught her fingertips in his hand and smiled up at her. 

The lounge room was as big as it had been in his own world, but far more comfortable. It was filled with soft-looking couches and chairs decked in cushions and brightly coloured blankets. The fresh walls were warm beneath the light of the fire Ron started in the grate with a flick of his wand, the redhead pulling the curtains closed on the darkening sky. 

"Did we meet in Hogwarts, then?" Ron was half-turned to him, grinning as he stretched before flopping into one of the armchairs with a groan. Harry smiled back, tugging at a footstool until his back was to the fire, warm and taking away the edge of nerves that danced about him still.

Surreal. 

Everything was beyond surreal. 

"Yeah," Harry's eyes flicked over to watch others make their way inside as though this was an everyday occurrence. Parkinson sidled in beside Ron with a sigh, her smile soft and sincere. "We met on the Hogwarts express, actually. Mrs. Weasley showed me how to get onto the platform and then we ended up in the same compartment."

Ron grunted as he made room for the woman poking him in the side, his smile fond as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Harry shook his head with a smile. Despite the fact that Harry thought it should be another in his embrace, the man looked just as besotted with the dark haired girl, and Harry could not find it in him to bode her any ill will. 

"So," Harry glanced over as Draco made his way into the room behind the twins, his hands in the pockets of his trousers as he cast one raised eyebrow down at something Fred was saying to him. Not unfriendly then... "Is the Order still a thing with Voldemort being gone?" 

The twins shot him sharp looks, George's eyes flashing silver as he pulled his brother in close and tipped the two of them back to settle on the main couch. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone but Dumbledore say that name." Fred was shaking his head, leaning forward in his seat to stare at Harry. 

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." Harry quoted one of his best friends with a shrug, eyes trained on Draco as the vampire stretched the massive wings on his back with a sudden shake. 

Merlin. 

Now that was surreal. 

The blonde tucked the wings in back along his spine, the scaled things all but disappearing in the shadows. How did he manage that, Harry wondered... It was as though when they were tucked away, Draco almost seemed human. Red eyes caught his and a familiar smirk lit the man's features. Harry felt himself look away sharply. Almost human.

"I mean, when you fight a guy so many times, saying his name means... nothing? It was a title Tom Riddle gave himself, it doesn't mean anything." 

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed, eyes wide in a way Harry had last seen nearly a year ago. "Only Dumbledore ever called You-Know-Who by his actual name."

Harry felt a distant pang, his smile sad. "Albus Dumbledore was an incredible wizard. The man was gifted. He set up the Order of the Pheonix to form an army against Voldemort. When the war ended, the Order kind of... disbanded? Well, I guess... Most of us were dead so." 

The self-depracating little laugh was met by stony silence, Draco making a noise akin to a growl where the man leaned against the mantle piece. "You speak about it so calmly," The blonde shook his head, "It is unnerving. The Order of the Pheonix here was set up as a home for children in need of protection." The blonde was watching the flames, eyes bright as blood. "Some families are warped in mindset and try to force unrealistic ideals onto their children. Grimmauld place offered a sanctuary, open and visible to any magical child that ran from home or needed time away from overbearing parents. Each room on all four storeys was occupied during the war, when tensions were high and tempers were higher." 

He glanced down at Harry and smiled. "Most families have calmed with the times, but Sirius keeps the house open; a home for those in need just in case. When we are not occupying it," he gestured to the people around him, to Gregory and Tommy; a pair seated in the corner that Harry had not even realised had come in, "Remus, Sirius, James, Lily, Nymphadora, Aunt Andromada, mother, Molly, Arthur, Severus... and others... take turns coming by here each time the wards alert them to the presence of a child in need."

Harry felt his throat grow tight, his fingers clenching down on the soft fabric of his trousers. Grimmauld place was a safe home for children. Sirius had made it a safe home for all the kids, like Harry himself, who felt as though they could not go back to their own homes. It seemed... Almost too perfect, really. He flinched when a presence kneeled in front of him, glancing up at Draco. 

"I did not mean to upset you... Or bring back painful memories." 

Harry snorted, shaking his head and lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "There's a fair share of those, but that doesn't mean some of them aren't bittersweet. This house in my world is in some desperate need of repairs... and a bit lonely to live in..." he chuckled, "it's just nice to see it so... Warm." 

Draco hummed, tilting his head and standing again. "Severus took me here quite often while he helped to set up the Order. From what I know, Sirius and Remus   
live here most days, even when it's not occupied, so I believe you can credit its warmth to plain, old natural Omega instincts." 

Parkinson gave a snort, grin sharp. "It's called nesting, Draco. Omegas don't just do it during a heat, they like their homes to be a certain way. This is where Remus raised his kid, of course he's going to keep it cosy." 

Fred was nodding, "I heard that. I mean, I've never seen him do it, but Dad says that Remus can throw one hell of a strop when Sirius tries to muck up a room on purpose when they're bickering. I'd never do such a thing" the redhead chuckled. George pushed his twin back into the cushions with a snicker. 

"Oh, as if you would ever even get the chance to have an omega, Beta-Brains." The indignant shout Fred let out was met with a sharp bark of laughter from Ron, that quickly turned to a shriek when Pansy stuck her two fingers into the man's rib-cage. 

"What're you laughing at, Ronald?" she hissed playfully, "You think you'd ever even get the chance to look at one? You're mine, Knothead!"

Harry watched the scuffle with no small amount of amusement, but the words made little to no sense to him. Remus had used the same ones earlier to describe... Pregnancies? Were they talking about werewolf pregnancies? Was Ron a... 

Harry frowned at the redhead, talking in the boy's rapidly reddening face as he tried to push Pansy form the chair, his breath wheezing. No... Ron was human...   
So what were the words they were using? What did they mean?

"You look confused." 

Harry jumped, glancing up at Draco with a twist to his lips. This Malfoy was a great deal stealthier than the old one. 

"Ah," Harry grimaced, shrugging one shoulder up. "Remus said he'd explain all that Alpha, Beta, Omega stuff to me; but I've no idea what it means, if I'm being completely honest." 

Draco's red eyes widened marginally, the room going suddenly silent. Harry felt all eyes train on him and coughed awkwardly, tapping his hands against his knees. "Sorry... Did I say something wrong?"

"Woah," Fred struggled to sit up out of the soft couch, eyes wide. "No way, are you trying to tell me you don't know about dynamics?" Blue eyes flashed silver for a second, the redhead glancing back at George who shrugged at him. "What eighteen year old doesn't know about dynamics? I mean, you would have gone through your own Beta presentation back in your... world, right?"

Harry frowned, shaking his head slowly. "What are dynamics? Is it like a creature thing?" 

"Ohhhh," Pansy was pushing Ron aside, scooting forward on the seat beside Harry to stare at him, "Precious baby, nooo... No, dynamics are not a creature thing..." She grimaced and pushed Harry to one side of the large footstool, plonking herself down beside him with a huff. "Alright, so dynamics refers to biologically standards in every single Witch or Wizard alive. There are three altogether; Alpha, Beta and Omega. When a witch or wizard reaches the age of magical majority, sometimes seventeen, sometimes earlier; they go through a biological presentation. This didn't happen back in your world?" 

Harry was at a loss, sure there were times when he had never paid attention in class and he was missing a whole year of schooling to boot, but he was fairly confident that this would not have been something he would have glazed over. At the very least, it would have been something Hermione would have forewarned him about. Dynamics? Presentations? The words did not ring so much as a tinkle of recognition. 

"Ah... No?"

"Merlin." Draco whispered the word beside him, the man's pale face falling into his long fingers as he frowned down at Harry. "That is one hell of a difference between worlds. The dynamics have existed between magical people since before the time of the Hogwarts founders. There is no point in our history when they were not spoken of or written about." 

The vampire sighed, taking a seat beside Ron on the arm of his chair. "Alpha, Beta, Omega are three sides that make up the balance of wizard-kind. The Alpha is the Sire, the provider; the one who makes up a near majority of the population. Their presentation is long, fierce, drawn-out. The Beta is the Protector, level-headed and second only to the Alpha. Their presentation lasts only a handful of days, painful, but bearable." 

The man paused, pale cheeks suddenly flushing. "The Omega is sacred. So few of them are born nowadays, and even less are born... Fertile. They have the quickest, most painful presentation. Though it lasts only a night or two, Severus has told me that it is a pain he will never forget for as long as he survives."

Severus... Harry's brow was furrowed. Severus was an Omega? So, not a werewolf thing then. The green eyed boy shook his head, more in disbelief that such a vast difference could even exist between this world and his own. 

"I don't understand, so is it like a power thing? Are Alphas like the most powerful?" 

Fred snorted, pushing at George's shoulder with a grin. "They only wish they were." 

Pansy smiled at him, patting his thigh. "Alpha's are the strongest, sure, but it typically falls to the Omega to make any life changing decision. If you have an Omega in your family, you listen to them, they're kind of like the Head Matriarch, I guess." 

He was getting confused. Harry squinted, "So, they're women? But, Remus..."

"They can be women," Ron supplied, face screwing up in thought, "Or they can be men. Usually female omegas have a higher ah... fertility rate, I think? That's what Mum taught us, at least. Males can sometimes be sterile, or run into fertility issues down the line." 

Harry paused on his next question, mind flickering back to the image Remus had shown him... Of a smiling child that he had... Birthed... 

"Omegas are the ones that... give birth?" he asked softly, eyes widening. "Omegas are wizards that can have babies?" 

Draco chuckled, drawing an open-mouthed glance from Harry. "Precisely." 

Well... 

Hell. 

Harry felt his eyebrows lift into his hairline, barely registering the laughter that filled the room at his expression. 

"Aw bless, he's in shock." 

"I think he's going to keel over, actually..."

"It's alright mate, no idea what's goin' through your head right now, but it's easy learn all this stuff!"

"Could you imagine never having to go through a presentation?" 

"Could you imagine not being any dynamic? Bloody hell, how would that even feel?" 

The words filtered through his pacing mind with him paying them little regard, his lips twisting as he tried to sort the information he had been given. 

With a start, he realised that Draco was in front of him, the blonde's red gaze filled with a strange sort of curiosity. "Harry..." 

"Yeah?" Harry jumped when a wrist was put in front of his face suddenly, so pale he could see the blue veins beneath it. "Eh..."

"Humour me," Draco grinned at him from where the blonde was crouched. "Scent is incredibly important here. Scenting is an everyday thing. I have a theory regarding yours. Tell me... What do you smell?"

The younger boy cast a wary glance at Pansy to his side, only for the woman to coax him on with a smile. He had a scent? 

With a sigh, he leaned forward, almost but not quite pressing his nose to Draco's skin. Unless the man was wearing some fancy cologne, Harry doubted whether his boring, 'dynamic'-less nose would be able to pick up anything at all... The younger boy paused, inhaling more when the faintest trace of something came to him. Something dark and almost copper-like wafted from the man's skin like a perfume, mild and... Really nice. The scent was comforting... Powerful...

"Smells nice," Harry almost did not want to pull back to murmur, "Like... you're... Safe?"

He frowned at the word. Apt as it may have been, it was not one that Harry would have ever thought he would use for any Draco Malfoy. 

Pansy breathed a sound of sudden realisation beside him, her hands clutching tight on his arm. "You don't think...!" 

Harry would have glanced at her, and at the sudden murmurs around him that sounded closer than before, excited and curious. He, however, seemed to have gotten stuck a certain distant from Draco's raised wrist, inhaling that strange, warm scent that loosened the anxious knot that had, unknowingly, lodged in his chest.

The blonde watched him with wide eyes, mouth lifting in a smile. 

"I am assuming that someone with no dynamic would have smelled absolutely nothing." The man's voice was quiet despite the flurry of sound behind him, leaning forward slightly. "A Beta would have smelled potential; for kinship, for a challenge..." He edged closer to the boy that looked almost hypnotised by the scent, lidded green eyes lifting to stare back at Draco. "An Omega would have smelled potential; for a possible mate..."

"You..." Draco spoke the word with something soft, his hands lifting to cup the boy's cheeks, "You, Harry, smell safety in me because I am an Alpha that you know; and you have not yet presented."


	7. 7

"Will you tell me about him?" 

The Weasley's had gone back to their home. After a promise from Lily to bring Harry back to theirs the following evening for dinner, Molly had thrown her arms around the young boy. The woman's face had been imperceptible, fond and gentle and filled with a thousand questions. 

The were the same questions that Harry was sure were on his own mother's face as she studied him from where the both of them were still lounged against the couch the twins had previously been in. The fire was still bright, casting a warm glow on the rest of the people in the room. 

Gregory Goyle and the man Harry knew only as Tommy had taken their leave upstairs, the formidable shape of Greg casting a curious look in Harry's direction before offering him a short wave in goodbye. Odd in itself as that had been, it was nothing compared to the quick kiss to his cheek Draco Malfoy had given him before going off to find Snape. 

Harry had been momentarily too stunned to react beyond the blush that he was sure lit his face aflame. Malfoy had always been something of an obsession of his for all the wrong reasons; a lack of trust, an unbridled dislike of one another, a childish stubbornness that refused either the chance to let the other get the upper hand. To have that sudden obsession turned so rapidly on its head with the realisation that this Draco was... Kind, and charming, and older, and patient, and quite... Handsome... 

Well... That was something that he could happily push to one side until his frazzled mind could figure out just what the hell was going on. 

His father was sat beside Lily, legs stretched out in front of him and Auror robes thrown over the back of the couch. He glanced at Harry with a small smile. "Tell you about our Harry, you mean?"

Harry nodded, watching as Remus came back into the room floating a tray behind him. He placed it down on the coffee table pushed to one side, sending a mug towards Lily, James and Sirius with a flick of his wand. Harry's tea, he handed to him with a smile, leaning in to cup the boy's chin briefly. "Sure," Harry smiled at Remus as he held the warm mug close, wrapping both his hands around it. "I know he was young, but you must have so many stories. What was he like?"

"He was kind." Lily took a sip of her tea, her eyes locked on the fire as Sirius scooted over on the loveseat across from them to make room for Remus, lifting an arm to pull the smaller man in to his side. Harry hid his smile behind his cup of tea. 

"He was very sweet, always tried to do odd jobs to help out, even when he ended up making more of a mess than was... helpful." She grimaced with a small laugh, glancing over at Harry. Her eyes were sad. Whether they had always been so in the years she had been without her son, or just now with the memories, Harry could not tell. "He was forever trying to help me make breakfast and, more often than not, I ended up the one covered in egg and flour." 

Remus chuckled, his eyes flashing gold in the subtle light. "He was an absolute disaster when it came to chores, as much as he tried. Merlin, he spotted me de-weeding the garden one morning and when I turned around he had every one of my tulips beheaded." 

Harry laughed with the rest of them, memories of de-weeding Petunia's garden beneath the blistering summer sun while his lips grew cracked and his hands burned were quick to flit across his mind. "I'm not too fond of gardening myself, but I was quite good at Herbology all the same. I was absolute pants at Potions."

Sirius groaned, sinking lower in his seat. "Don't even remind me of the nightmare that was Potions... Double classes every day with the better-than-everyone Ravenclaws! Now, that was a form of torture."

James snorted, "Only 'cause you went and tried to make your own damn concoctions! Nearly exploded every bloody cauldron you bought and the blasted classroom. I'm still a firm believer that old Benningsworth only gave you an Acceptable so he wouldn't have to deal with you trying to repeat his class for the Auror's programme!"

Sirius leapt forward to send a stinging hex in James' direction, only for the other man to deflect it with a flick of his wand and a bark of laughter. Lily yelped as it struck her arm instead, scowling at Sirius and sending a hex of her own bolting towards the man with a wand she pulled from her belt loop. Harry watched them yelp and dive about on the cushions, his lips stretched wide in a smile that slowly became a laugh. They were like children, laughing and cursing one another as stinging jinx after stinging jinx landed. Remus scowled at the three of them, cupping his mug to one side and sighing like a weary parent. Harry watched it all as he snorted into his own cup. He squeaked suddenly as his eyes snapped to a snap of magic heading his way, his hand lifting easily to cast a silent Protego. The simple shield absorbed the mild hex with barely a waver before Harry let it fall as he dropped his hand down, shaking his head with a smile. It was like being stuck in the common room with Ron, Seamus and Dean all over again.

"Merlin..." 

Harry glanced up, stiffening when he realised he had the attention of all four adults on him; their mouths open and their eyes wide. Harry frowned, "Sorry, did I miss something?"

James was the first to move, leaning around Lily to look Harry up and down, taking in the wand still holstered to the boy's arm, unused. "Harry," he breathed, "Did you just use wandless... And wordless magic?"

"Er... Yeah?" Harry frowned, glancing towards where Remus was looking at him in awe. Was that not something he was supposed to be doing? Was it wrong for him to be doing magic outside of a school? "I mean, sorry if I wasn't supposed to, but the simple spells just kind of happen? I haven't had to consciously use my wand for a Protego in years."

"Bloody hell," Sirius whipped towards James. "That's incredible! Isn't that incredible? Harry, what other spells can you use like that?" 

"Ah..." Harry cast a simple Lumos with a wave of one hand, flicking on the overhead lamp before waving his hand back in a Nox and turning it off again. "The simple stuff, I guess? I can unlock doors, use shields... Some of the more complex spells that the rest of my year haven't managed yet like Levioso and Silencio... There were times when I was left without a wand during the war so I pushed myself to learn more than what came naturally." 

Lily had a hand pressed against her lips, her eyes closing slowly before she shook her head and looked back at him with a smile. "Harry, do you have any idea how amazing that is?" She leaned over to grasp his arm, her eyes bright. "Even in your universe I'm sure wandless magic is something not very many wizards can do at all. That you've learned to do those kinds of spells not only wandless, but wordless, that is remarkably impressive, sweetheart." 

Harry felt himself smiling once more, something soft and warm bursting in his chest like pride. "Really?"

Lily nodded at him, and Sirius grinned. "It's a level of magic not many would associate with a fully matured Alpha, let alone a Beta barely on the cusp of manhood!" 

"About that." 

Harry turned as Remus cleared his throat, the man setting his empty cup aside. "I was speaking with Draco before he left, and I know the group have given you a fair chunk of information, Harry; but there may be others things we should discuss." 

He turned towards the other three adults, lips pressed in a line. "Harry isn't a Beta. He's Unpresented." 

James nearly choked on his sip of tea, the man lurching forward to cough the liquid from his throat as Lily rolled her eyes and thumped him on the back. "Come again?"

Remus smiled at Harry as the boy leaned forward to check on his father, his brow furrowed. "In Harry's universe, there are no dynamics. There are no secondary genders, no need for presentations. The kids figured this out when they were speaking earlier; and Draco came to a rather interesting theory."

Harry took in the slightly taken aback expressions. His father was casting him glances, the man's eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to figure something out, while his mother kept her eyes on Remus. The woman's hand reached out in an almost subconscious gesture to pat at Harry's knee. Sirius was leaning back against the loveseat, eyes narrowed in thought. Was it really so strange a thing to come from a place without dynamics? He was beginning to think these 'secondary genders' played a far bigger part in this society than he had first thought. 

"Lily," Remus said into the sudden silence, his smile wide, "What does Harry smell like to you?" 

The woman opened her mouth, then paused, before casting a brief look over at the boy. "He doesn't seem unpresented... But his scent is off as Beta too." She shook her head, siddling closer on the seat to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I just put it down to the anxiety he must have been feeling being in a strange place, with new faces. It must have all been so strange for you, love." 

"Exactly!" Remus grinned. "We've all been adjusting to Harry's scent as anxious. We've been subconsciously registering the upheavel we all felt at his sudden appearance as his scent." 

"Harry," The man turned towards him, taking in the confused tilt of his head with a laugh, "Anxiety, stress, panic, these sudden, sharp, off-balance emotions produce a scent that is akin to electricity. It charges the room and everyone in it. With each flare of panic, the scent registers as strong and we associate that scent with the person who is felling those emotions in an effort to come to a solution. The Unpresented and a Beta give off a near identical scent for anxiety and that is the primary scent you have been giving off since landing here. With your age, we unintentionally boxed you into the latter column. 

"Draco, however, realised that when you had calmed somewhat, your scent was too subtle to grab a conscious hold of. He believes you have been giving off the scent of your emotions, and the emotions of those around you, rather than an actual scent."

"Ah!" James said suddenly, his eyes wide. "His magic is mimicking!" 

"My magic is what?" Harry was trying to follow the conversation, it seemed like a fairly important one. But some of these words he had never heard of in relation to magic and scents and dynamics and... Had Draco Malfoy been bloody well sniffing him the entire time he had been here? Was that not just a little bit creepy?

"Mimicking." Sirius answered, nodding his head. "It's when an unpresented kid on the cusp of presenting loses all trace of their own, child-like scent and their magic mimicks the scent of everyone around them. If you were panicking, so too were the people around you and your magic picked up on their new scents and mimicked it like a mirror. Any calm scent anyone tried to send towards you, would have hit this 'mirror' and been reflected back. It happens rarely, very rarely; in cases where a kid has no solid home and their magic is trying to find a safe space to present." 

"I do have a home, though," Harry said, grimacing as he remembered the dire state of Grimmauld back in his own universe... He sort of had a home... 

Lily shook her head. "Not just a house, Harry," she said softly, "An actual home. A space where you feel safe and protected and welcome and loved. Something brought you into this universe and that upheaval tore you from everything your magic recognised... Familiar as we all may be to you, your magic is different to ours. Your body is trying to settle itself into a new normal." 

She sighed, glancing up at Remus. "How could we not have realised?"

Remus' lips twisted, his eyes taking in Harry slowly. "It had never even occurred to me to consider. Until Draco mentioned it to me, I believed Harry was a Beta coming from a universe where the dynamics were so weak, they were negligible. Forgotten. Your son, before his passing, had every indication that he would present as Beta and so I naturally placed this Harry in that space. Forgive me, Cub." 

Harry startled, reaching up to scratch at his neck with a rueful smile. "Don't apologise, Remmy, you've done nothing wrong," he gave an embarrassed chuckle. There was so much information to take in, some of it flitting over the top of his head that he knew he was going to have to ask someone to repeat at some point. He was... presenting? From what he had gathered... Though what, exactly, he would be presenting into he had absolutely no idea. Not a creature... And the wizards and witch in front of him were fairly normal looking, and acting. What was the big deal? 

"Besides," Harry announced, grin bright, "If I'm 'unpresented' as ye all seem to think, I might still be a Beta, right?"

James hummed a noise, Sirius making a gesture with his hand beside him. "Possibly, Harry," The man spoke, lips twisting in a small smile. "You might possibly be a Beta, nothing can be ruled out at the moment with how different this situation is. Even going through the records in the Department, only one instance of inter-universal travel has ever been documented and that was due to an unfortunate incident with a temper-mental Time Turner. This is... an unusual circumstance. The best thing we can do at the moment is give you a safe space to call home and wait it out. Alright?"

Harry stared back at the man that had once been the closest thing he ever had to a father, taking in the tense set of his shoulders and the gentle look in his eyes. Sirius looked unsure, but the apprehension and caution that Harry knew the man was capable of when things were going wrong was absent. For as long as the people around him could smile at him calmly and tell him not to worry; for the first time in his life Harry felt as though he could believe them all. 

He nodded, smiling back. 

"Alright."


	8. 8

It was possibly the most surreal experience of his life.

He had faced three-headed dogs, possessed diaries, mermaids, dragons intent on burning him alive, the cold, unforgiving reality of the death of a loved one... And still, Harry could definitely say that sitting at the kitchen table in Grimmauld place while his mother cooked breakfast and his father skirted around her getting ready for work was the most surreal thing he had ever seen.

Remus was sat beside him, the man humming under his breath as he flicked through the Daily Prophet, one side of his hair rumpled still from sleep and his robes half-untied where he had just thrown them on. The man sipped his tea as though it were any casual Friday, shoulders relaxed and throwing Harry a smile whenever he caught the boy glancing at him. Sirius was growling up a storm as he prowled from room to room, searching for some 'goddamn, blasted paperwork' that he knew he had 'left right there on the table, for Merlin's sake!'

He emerged from behind the pantry door with a sound of triumph, clutching the parchment in his hand and slapping James over the forehead with it when the other man passed him to return a jar of honey to the shelves.

"I told you I left it on a shelf!"

"You said you left it on the table."

"Merlin, James, do you listen to me at all? Didn't I bloody well mean shelf?"

Lily moved from behind the counter that divided the kitchen from the larger dining section, pushing the two men out of her way as she placed a plate filled with pancakes drizzled in honey in front of Harry and floated the other four to land gracefully on the dining table. She waited until he looked up at her before smiling down and placing a hand on his head, ruffling the hair there as if she wanted nothing more than to clutch it and pull him in for a hug. "Sorry there were no blueberries, love. Maybe we can pick some up in Diagon today when we go to get you some new clothes?"

She settled herself in beside him, lifting her wand to wave over the teapot that had just begun to whistle on the stove. James plonked himself in beside her with a grin, leaning over his own plate to drop a kiss to the side of her mouth and trailing his tie in a pool of honey as he did. Harry watched Lily sigh dramatically as she spelled it clean, Remus' gaze still on his morning paper as he made a cup of tea one handed and dumped in three sugar cubes before sliding it towards a scowling Sirius. Harry glanced down at the pancakes in front of him, perfectly round and fluffy, and felt his heart clench in his chest.

This.

This should have been his life all along.

His fingers clenched on the material of his trousers, eyes wide to stop the sudden swell of tears he felt threatening there. In all his years at Hogwarts, at Mrs. Weasleys, distantly comparing home-cooked meals to the ones he may have had with his own family, if given the chance. Compared to all the warmth and love he had felt and had known in his own world... This was incredibly... More. The emotion clutched invisible fingers against his arms, holding them frozen. He felt a tremble against his spine, his magic hot and snappish as he tried to take in a breath, only for the air to leave his lungs in a pathetic, little whimper.

Why had he not been allowed to have this?

"Oh, pet,"

Harry blinked wetly as he felt arms around him suddenly, his Mother pulling him into a one-sided hug that had his lips clamping shut on another embarrassing sound. He felt as though he had cried enough for a lifetime in the short amount of time he had spent here. The emotions he felt were a thousand times stronger, pulling at his senses in ways he wasn't sure he had ever felt back home. Everything was just so... Settling, to him here.

Nerves he had not even realised he had been dealing with were calming and the anxious pit that coiled in his stomach these past few months was slowly unraveling. His own magic was a thing he could feel, more alive and vibrant beneath his skin than he had felt in so long. It was as though he had cocooned himself away from everything that could potentially hurt him. In the months leading up to his strange appearance in another world, Harry had pulled away from the two people who loved him most; to give them space, yes, and to shield himself from the pain of knowing he would be left on the outskirts...

He had pulled from the Weasley's, from Ginny and Molly and George, to give them time to grieve, he had thought; but now the realisation of their pain, their mourning struck something within him that was strung tight with panic.

Pain.

He had felt so much of it... Known it in so many different ways; emotional and physical and manipulative and self-sacrificing, bereaved and jealous and embarrassed and tortured and lost and...

He had not wanted to feel any more.

Harry took a breath, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he looked up to meet the faces of the people who haunted his nightmares. Lily was rubbing his arm with one hand, face taut as she held him close and glanced over at Remus. The werewolf's eyes were a solid gold, pinned to Harry and his lips twisted in a soft grimace. Sirius and James were watching him too, forks and knives left discarded on the table.

"Harry..?"

"I don't want you to send me back."

He spoke the words before he had ever really thought them true, and was nearly taken aback by the relief he felt at just voicing them. He didn't want to go back. As much as he loved, adored, would do anything for his friends, his family. The cold, harsh truth of it all was that... They were moving on without him.

They were grieving but living, laughing and loving, moving forward in a world free of Voldemort while he cried into his pillow at night reliving the war over and over and over and over.

"Harry," Sirius shook his head with a small smile, "We don't even know what it was that brought you here. Me and James are trying to figure it out, of course, Minister's orders and all that malarkey; but there's absolutely no guarantee that we'll find it. The old Hogwarts wards fluctuate on an indescribable level, it's magic we can't and won't tamper with. There's no way to say for sure that there is even a possibility of one day sending you back."

The man lifted a fork to take a bite out of his breakfast, mouth half-full when he pointed the handle at Harry, his eyes sharp. "And even if we could; we wouldn't."

Harry felt his lip tremble, his head nodding slowly. "'Cause you miss your Harry..."

"No, cub," Remus growled, golden eyes simmering down to their usual colour as the man folded the newspaper half-crumpled in his grasp. "While it's true we miss our Harry, and the similarities between you both are somewhat there. You and him are two completely different people and that is only becoming more and more apparent."

"He's right, Harry," Lily ran a hand through his hair softly and Harry risked a glanced up at the woman. She was smiling, eyes bright. "I loved my son, I raised him well and I grieved when I had to put him to rest. But he was a boy with his own life, his own dreams, his own personality. You are a wonderful, incredible young man and you are not him."

She lifted his arm suddenly, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt to hold the pale skin up to the morning light. As pale as he was, the glistening, pink skin of past scars littered his forearms. A slash from a curse here, a rough landing there. Scars had never been a thing Harry had been conscious of, he had always had a few. What was one more added? As long as his skin was on fire with some sort of pain, then he was alive and being alive meant being able to fight. Lily looked over the collection now with something sharp and sad in her eyes.

"I don't see you as him, Harry, but I do see you as my son. In the same way as any version of me could look at you and feel protective. Even if they could send you back..." The woman's eyes suddenly blazed, her mouth twisting into a fierce line as she whispered the last words darkly. "I would never let them."

Harry probably should have felt something more than sad for the life left behind him with the sudden declaration; and he did, as he laughed wetly and his pancakes were pushed in front of him by a stern James with an order to 'eat up!' He felt the creeping edge of sadness dwindle, a solid presence for the family he knew would worry for him.

Mostly though... Beneath the lingering sadness and the residual panic... Mostly, he felt relief.

###

Diagon Alley was as bright and busy as Harry had ever seen it. The shops were full of people milling around, though the majority of anyone his own age was in school at the moment. Remus had explained to him as he walked side by side with the man and Lily, that the new magical school had been set up closer towards the border of England and Scotland and had been built in something of a replica of the old Hogwarts. It had been named Dumbledore's Academy in honour of the late Headmaster, though most simply called it D.A.

Harry could do little to help the girn that caught the corner of his mouth at that. Dumbloedore's Army would have been proud.

They had already been to three different clothing stores, Remus and Lily carrying a bag each filled with shrunken packages of clothes that Harry had insisted he really did not need. He had lived his life predominantly in his uniform, and would have been grateful enough for two sets of trousers and shirts to call his own. Lily had simply thrown him a jaded look, assured him that if they didn't spend the Potter fortune, then James most definitely would 'on random crap'.

He had left Madam Malkin's in a set of dark green Wizarding robes that Harry doubted were as casual as Remus insisted they were. He wore black trousers beneath that were tighter than he had ever been comfortable with, but the seamstress had insisted he be given the correct sizing. The robes hid them well enough though, tight as they were across his torso and down the length of his arms. The cuffs flared marginally across his wrists, leaving his fingers free, though Harry was sure before the day was out that he would have them rolled up to his elbows. He was toying with it even as they walked now, rolling the cuff between his fingers as they passed by Magical Menagerie and Harry lifted his eyes to glance at the cages displayed in the windows.

He stilled, eyes lingering on a cage in the bottom right, where a lonely looking lump was half-hidden beneath the sand tossed across the base of the enclosure. "Do you mind if we...?"

Harry glanced up at Lily and Remus, the pair pulling to a stop as he spoke and pointed a finger towards the shop window. His mother made a sound not unlike a coo, sliding up to the window to tap at the glass and wave at the Krups all yipping for attention. "Of course, I love looking in on these little guys!" Remus grinned, snapping his teeth playfully when one of the crups caught his eye and started growling, it's fluffed out tail wagging erratically behind it.

The shop was bright with artificial light, cages and glass enclosures stacked high, some filled with assortments of crups and pgymy puff's, kneazles, cats and toads and more. There were several people already milling about, young children shrieking and animals yapping or squeaking in response. It was an influx of noise that had Harry skirting closer towards the window, his eyes narrowed as he crouched down to look at the miserable little creature peering out at him from one of the bottom cages.

The snake was small, no more than a common garden variety with dull green scales and a yellow stripe down its spine. It huddled close to the back corner, dark eyes curious and its body looped and coiled around itself. Harry grinned.

_"Hi there."_

The snake perked up immediately, lifting its small head and blinking once, twice, before it was sliding towards the glass panel with a spark of something like excitement in its eye.

_"Speaker?"_

_"Of a sort,"_ Harry nodded, leaning his elbows on his braced knees and putting his chin in one hand. _"You don't see many snakes in a pet shop."_

The snake rippled, darting its tongue out to scent and winding closer to the panel, closer to Harry. _"Lost... Taken... Lonely..."_

Harry hummed, tapping a finger against the glass and watching the little head butt against it, like a kitten seeking affection. _"I can understand lonely. Maybe I can take you home with me?"_ The snake perked, sounding its approval in a happy, little hiss that had Harry chuckling.

"You're a Parselmouth."

The voice was breathed close to him and Harry yelped as he flew back on his backside with the sudden surprise. He groaned, cracking an eye to glare at the tall, imposing form of Draco Malfoy.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people!"

Draco peered down at him, red eyes alight, before leaning down to grasp the smaller boy's wrist and pull him to a stand as though Harry weighed next to nothing. "True," the blonde hummed, his eyes never leaving Harry's own as he pulled him in closer to whisper, "But you shouldn't be able to speak Parseltongue... From what I know of the Potter heritage, it was not a bloodline known for any... Slytherin qualities."

Harry pulled back to dust off his backside, casting a raised brow at the little snake that was hissing something akin to a laugh in his cage. "No, it wouldn't be, would it? Seeing as the lot of them were Gryffindors. I was hard pushed enough convincing the sorting hat that I bloody well belonged there too." Green eyes were sly when they looked up to meet red, Harry smiling slowly. "But seeing as I was a Voldemort's Horcrux for the majority of my life, I guess a few Slytherin qualities are harder to squash down than others."

Harry could feel the blonde's eyes on him as he crouched back down, the vampire rigid as Harry spoke to the little snake. While he had little idea as to what he sounded like to an outside perspective, Hermione had once described the Serpent language as being simultaneously incredibly beautiful and startlingly dark. She had said it was a lilting, slow drawl of a speech that curled against a person's magic to illicit an almost instinctual reaction. He had had no idea what she meant at the time, sure she had been fluffing it out for the sake of letting him know why the language rubbed her up the wrong way. But as he spoke quietly, Harry was almost hyper-aware of the vampire standing beside him and the safe, copper-tinged, warm scent that Harry knew, inexplicably now, was Draco. He had a feeling instinct was something he was going to become far more familiar with.

"Alright then, fetch a store attendant," Draco was growling suddenly, lifting the boy again with one firm grasp around his elbow. He pointed Harry towards the staff at the top near the counter when Harry glanced at him in confusion.

"Go on," Draco gave him a push, "Tell them you want the little snake and whatever supplies they can fetch for it." The vampire looked down at him, lips spreading in a grin that was all teeth. "My treat."


	9. 9

"I can't believe he bought you a snake."

"To be fair... He is a Slytherin..."

Harry held the little cage that housed his small friend in front of his face, his smile wide as Lily peered into the glass and passed a clearly disturbed look onto Remus. The other man shrugged, "At least it's a small snake, Lily. We can keep it in the cage so it doesn't eat the owls."

"He won't eat the owls," Harry unlatched the cage with a grin and held out a palm to allow the little creature to slither out and twine around his wrist. "He won't destroy anything, and he can't possibly harm anyone. What he will do is make sure we have no rats."

Green eyes darkened, "I hate rats."

The trio were back in Grimmauld place, Draco a new addition beside them as he watched Harry smile down at the snake. The boy's fingers were slow and soft as he reached out two to pat the small, scaled head.

Lily sighed, throwing her arms up in defeat. "Alright then, but you've got to keep an eye on him, Harry. And for Merlin's sake, let James and Sirius know so they don't accidentally get rid of the thing."

Harry nodded, as he moved to bring the snake up to his room. The little creature whispered in his ear as they walked, its dark eyes glinting about the place and its body quick to move from Harry's wrist to his neck, flicking its tongue out to scent his new home.

_"You will have to be careful, you know, not to upset them. They're not snake people. What do I call you, then?"_

The snake wrapped its length around his upper arm to peer up at him. _"No name given."_

Harry hummed, sliding his fingers against the fresh walls of the hallway as he climbed the stairs; it was still baffling to him to think that Grimmauld place could ever look so comforting. _"Well, I'll have to call you something. What about Tom, that's a bit of sound irony right there, isn't it?"_

"What is it that has you both so deep in conversation?"

Harry jolted, turning a scowl on the man that had startled him as his fingers itched to grab his wand from its holster. He steadied his hand with a gasp. "You could have bloody well announced your presence."

"I just did." Draco grinned down at him, flashing an alarming amount of fang that Harry found, in equal parts, fascinating and disturbing.

The dark haired boy sighed. "I was trying to figure out a name for him, if you must know." Draco hummed, following Harry into the guestroom that he supposed was slowly becoming his own. It was sparse, filled only with a double bed with cream sheets rumpled from a night of tossing and turning. The curtains were pulled back to let in the setting sunlight, the pale wooden furniture and floor soft with the gentle glow.

_"Warm."_

Harry heard Tom hiss as he lifted his arm to let the snake sidle down to the top of his dresser. He tucked himself in a loop around a towel Harry had left there that morning, nuzzling into the material that had sat for long enough beneath the window to be warm to the touch. Harry smiled.

"You're incredibly beautiful, do you know that?"

Green eyes widened, Harry turning to look at Draco with a sharp laugh. "I've never been called that in my life," The boy chuckled, shaking his head. "And I've been called a fair amount."

Draco was peering down at him, the Vampire's eyes shimmering even as they closed softly with a sigh. "It is a tragedy and nothing less that you are not aware of how incredible you are, Harry Potter."

Harry felt a flush light his cheeks, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck and pull at the curls there. A nervous habit, and one hard to break. Draco strode forward with a growl, taking Harry's hand in his own and grasping it. The man's fingers were long, slender and elegant and tipped with perfectly round nails. Harry blinked up at him, taking in the copper-scented smell that surrounded him now with open-mouthed breaths.

He was so close...

Draco made a sound, deep within his chest like an imperceptible purr; and Harry felt something thrum inside himself as though it wanted to respond. "You are beautiful, incredibly so. I have never seen eyes that shine like yours... But more so than that, your strength is... Intoxicating."

It took a moment for Harry to realise that Draco was pushing up the sleeve of his robes, glancing across the scars there as he turned the limb slowly. His fingernails skimmed the boy's throat, catching on a rigged scar that was short but raised against the base of his collarbone. "You have been through so much... Taken on pain as though you deserved it all."

Those fingertips danced against his cheek, drawing a short, sharp intake of breath from the smaller boy. Draco pressed closer, tracing those fingers up again to push back the boy's dark fringe and rub his thumb against the scar etched across his forehead. "Your life should have hardened you into something tortured, something that casts away the world around it..."

Draco smiled, soft and sincere and so very handsome, Harry nearly forgot to breathe.

"And yet, you save snakes from noisy pet stores and give them names... You smile at everyone who looks your way so they do not worry... You hold friends and family close despite the hurt they might cause you... You laugh at darker thoughts and push through each day with such a pureness to you..." Harry froze as Draco's fingers carded through his hair, the man tilting his head to peer into blood red eyes that were so startling in their familiarity.

"You are... So... Bloody... Tempting..."

The words were whispered, but no less a growl as Draco's breath fanned across his face and Harry smelled peppermint and tea, his heart thrumming a frantic rhythm in his chest that he was absolutely sure that Draco could hear. The boy darted his tongue out to wet his bottom lip, eyes wide as that red stare followed the movement, another growl spilling from the Vampire's pink lips.

"I don't... I've never... I mean... With a..."

Words, Harry, use your words. His hand shook where it hung by his side, the other still grasped in Draco's long fingers, his pulse a racing thing beneath the pale skin. He swallowed, thoughts of his past kisses, with Cho and with Ginny, fleeting and incomparable to the molten heat that erupted across his throat at the Vampire's touch. He had never felt anything like this, never known anything as heated as the rush of his blood beneath the tips of those elegant hands.

Merlin but this was obsession... All his years of staring Malfoy down and goading him into fights, of snapping back in anger and baring their teeth at one another. Those memories held more heat, more emotion, than any of his past 'love encounters' and Harry felt himself lean into such a feeling, eyes fluttering closed. The sound that left his throat was one unbidden, a soft, whimpered mewl that rolled from somewhere deep inside his chest and passed his lips.

Draco growled a sound in response, low and impossibly dark. It set Harry's skin alight as the sunlight faded slowly from the window and the room grew dark with long shadows. "I will only take from you what you are willing to give me, Harry... Nothing more."

The words broke something in Harry, his body shuddering as he leaned his weight more solidly against the man. Draco was slender, but there was a strength to him that was bracing. He wrapped his free arm around Harry's waist, his lips parting to show the barest glint of fang.

Harry whimpered, low and long. "Please..."

It was the only answer the Vampire needed to drag the small green-eyed beauty impossibly close and slant his mouth against Harry's own.

Harry panted into the kiss, chaste as it was, as Draco's lips slid softly against his. The man allowed him only a moment, soft and sweet against his panting mouth, before sliding his tongue against Harry's in a manner that thrilled the smaller boy to his core. He made a pathetic sound, a broken whimper of a moan that Draco responded to with something of a purr.

He had never been kissed like this... Never kissed a man, full stop. Harry's thoughts were frantic, skittering across his mind as though trying to make sense of it all. As Draco's hand slipped against his waist and tightened there, the man's tongue dipping slowly to lick a path between his lips; his thoughts stilled to nothing.

Heat. Incomprehensible, delicious heat was flicking against his spine, his breath coming fast and frantic. There was a touch of something primal against his mind, a brush of something within himself that was writhing, twisting, moaning... Something...

Draco snarled, pulling back suddenly and tightening his fingers against a slim waist when Harry tried to follow him. Red eyes peered down at him, wide and bright and filled with the same heat that was slowly receding from Harry's mind.

The smaller boy took in a ragged breath, his own mouth open and panting still as he tried to calm the flames licking their way into his stomach. He pushed the wanton thoughts down within his own mind with a shudder, his fingers slowly releasing their clasp on Draco's arms. He blinked, slow and soft, as he looked at the crescent-shaped, blood-filled indents he had made in Draco's skin with his nails.

Another shudder tore through him and he stilled it with a whimper, his head tilting forward to bow. "Sorry, Draco..."

The Vampire growled again, low and thrumming and stilling whatever panic was trying to claw its way into Harry's throat. "My own fault," Harry glanced up at Draco to find red eyes pinned to him, the blonde's hair a sleek mess where it spilled across his chest. "I had not realised you were so close to... Presenting... You..."

Draco took a breath, stepping back and lifting his hands from Harry in a move that left the smaller boy feeling almost bereft.

"Your control is... Something else, Harry."

Harry glanced at the marks he had left in Draco's skin, though they were slowly healing before his eyes. "What control? I don't know what the hell that was, but I think I nearly bloody assaulted you."

The blonde tipped his head back in a laugh, his smile bright and lifting one from Harry's own sulking features.

"Harry," Draco purred, smile stretched over fangs that seemed longer now, sharp and white. "I can assure you, little Gryffindor, that there would have been no assault. As strong as you are..." He growled, snapping his teeth at Harry with a chuckle as the boy's green eyes lidded and his breath hitched. "I am stronger."

The blonde nodded towards the door, casting a swift look at the snake that seemed to be sleeping soundly on the dresser. "Come on, if we stay up here any longer, Remus will definitely come snooping. We don't want to be late for dinner at Molly's, do we?"

Harry watched him walk towards the door, his heart still beating a rushed rhythm against his chest. The scent of Draco surrounded him still, and he was not subtle as he breathed in deeply. Safe, his body seemed to respond to the scent and he turned to follow the Vampire.

Draco was safe.

###

Harry groaned, scowling when Ginny barked a laugh at him.

"That's what you get for eating three slices of treacle tart."

The boy was lounged in a deck chair outside the back garden of the Burrow. The house had been an exact replica of the one he had known, perfectly warm and cosy and filled with bustling life. Ginny and Molly had taken command of the kitchen, Lily and Pansy of the dining arrangements as the pair floated the dining table outside and enlarged it to fit them all.

The night air was warm and Pansy had lit lanterns that floated in the space above them to light the area bright enough to see everything and everyone.

It was almost like a party, Harry had been amused to see. Arthur had darted in to shake his hand fondly, and Fred and George had each wrapped him in a hug. The amount of food had been immense and Harry was now paying for his gluttony as he watched George bully Ron into helping clean up; the redhead snapping a stinging hex at the taller man's backside that drew a shriek from him.

Harry was laughing, his legs tucked beneath him as he waved a silent hand to brighten the lanterns when they began to flicker. The field stretched out before him, Draco's wings spread out wide to catch the gentle breeze as the blonde tipped his face back to the sky.

If Harry was beautiful, as Draco so stated, then the Vampire was a work of art.

His long limbs and lean muscle were elegant and confident beneath the black trousers and pale, silver shirt. The collar remained unbuttoned, showing a sliver of the man's chest and his forearms were bare; Draco having rolled up his sleeves to help clear the table only moments ago. His pale hair was loose about his shoulders, ethereal and incredibly suiting in its length. With delicate features that were classically handsome, the man could have been a sculpture for some avenging angel. His wingspan was massive stretched as it was in the open field, the appendages scaled and midnight black as they swept forward once against the breeze. Could he fly with them?

"Do you fly?"

Harry turned to find Ginny grinning down at him, her robes discarded for a pair of trousers and a long sleeved shirt. She held two brooms, one a Cleansweep; old but well taken care of if the polished handle was anything to go by and the other, a Comet, which she held out to him.

Harry felt his eyes light up as he grasped the offered handle, taking in the dark stained wood with a grin. It wouldn't be as fast as his Firebolt by any means, but it was a newer model.

"I haven't flown in months..." He whispered the words, glancing up once at Ginny before darting to his feet and struggling out of the green robes that Madam Malkin had all but pinned him into. The redhead laughed at him, waving her wand to summon over a small chest that Harry recognised immediately as being the one the Weasley's used to house their old Quidditch balls.

He flung his robes on the back of his chair and rolled up the sleeves of the tight fitting black shirt he wore with his trousers. The clothes were tight enough to mimic his old quidditch gear, stretchy enough around his hips and midriff to allow him movement.

Ginny riffled through the box with a hum, avoiding the bludgers that wobbled against their metal restraints. "So we'll need a quaffle, but if the rest are joining in then I'll need the... Aha!" She tossed something to Harry and he caught it on reflex, the tiny golden ball so familiar between his fingers.

Ginny grinned, wide and feral. "Thought you had the build of a Seeker, alright. Brilliant, you're with me so, Potter. Oi!"

The redhead let loose a holler that made him jump, lifting her broom high when all eyes turned to her. "Who's for some Quidditch?"

###

Harry did indeed end up on Ginny's team, the girl nabbing both him and George before the others could even get a look in. Ron named himself the other Captain, picking Fred and Draco and Tommy. Gregory settled into a chair to watch, throwing an inane look in Draco's direction when the blonde asked him to play with a grin.

James had all but bounded from the kitchen to join Ron's team when called, Harry was delighted to see and Lily stood in beside Harry with a wink down at the boy when he looked up at her with a raised brow. His mother had played Quidditch?

"Alright, Sirius that leaves you with me," Ginny dragged the Auror from the chair he was about to sit down in, earning a bark of laughter from Remus as the werewolf settled between Molly and Arthur. Pansy strolled from the kitchen doorway with a roll of her eyes, but settled into a seat nonetheless, beside Gregory.

"So, we have Harry and Tommy as Seekers, game rules apply. No bludgers, we don't need anymore trips to St. Mungos... Fred." The redhead scowled as George grinned at him, "And no cheating and using your bloody wings, Draco!" Ron stuck his tongue out at Draco as James laughed, earning a lopsided grin from the blonde that had Harry glancing down to hide his blush.

"Right, go!"

Harry took to the air before she had even finished the word, soaring upwards to where Pansy had moved the lanterns to light up the field. The snitch darted passed him, the low sound of its thrumming wings flittering once in his ears before it was off and darting towards the main field. He watched it go with his teeth bared in a smile, his fingers clutching tight to the broom beneath him. The wind was cool against his face, his heart soaring as he tipped the Comet backwards and fell into a short, sharp loop that drove a laugh form his chest. Merlin, he missed flying.

His eyes snapped open wide, taking in the players to his right as they battled between themselves. Tommy, the other Seeker, was darting his dark gaze about, his face pulled into a stern frown as he looked for the snitch. Harry howled a laugh as James was thrown the quaffle, the man catching it with barely a thought, before Lily snuck in and whipped it from beneath his arm, hurtling it towards Ginny with a speed that rivaled Oliver Wood in his prime.

The game was fast, the players used to one another, laughing and growling and snapping teeth in a grimace when their plays didn't land a hit each time. Ginny was as ferocious as ever, her red hair a wild cloud behind her as she darted forward with the quaffle beneath her arms once more, only to snarl when Ron dove in front of her and pulled her up short, his long arms darting out to snatch the ball. He sped it towards Draco with a throw Harry almost missed it was so quick and the blonde caught it in one, long-fingered hand.

As brilliant a player Malfoy had been in Harry's reality, he could say with complete certainty that this Draco was a thousand time better. The man was unburdened by petty, schoolyard rivalry, his movements thought out and perfectly timed as he weaved between Lily and George both, and swerved over the top of Sirius' growling head with a sudden roll that had Harry raising his brow in surprise. He made the shot with a smile that bordered indecent, his red eyes alight as he caught Harry's and winked.

The green eyed boy would have rolled his eyes, had they not darted towards a flicker of gold that had his blood pumping.

There!

He dove towards it, leaning forward to urge his broom upwards with the barest tilt of one hand. The snitch dropped and Harry rounded a confused Tommy at an alarming speed to follow it. He tipped the broom down, leaning back to slide into a feint as he felt Tommy follow his tail with a startled yelp. His lips slid into a smile, driving down faster and harder as his eyes kept sight of the snitch. With a deft flick of his wrist, he pulled out, snapping the broom upwards so suddenly, he was left almost breathless.

He leaned forward again as his eyes never left the golden thing that flittered steadily just inches from the tip of the handle. With a growl, he edged the broom closer, swooping now around the players that shouted and dived to avoid him, his body horizontal with the broom and his mouth stretching in a smile. With one, lazy reach of his arm, the snitch was in his grasp and Harry pulled the broom to a stop with a sudden, sharp pivot to the right.

Hie looked at the man he had come to a stop in front of, lips stretching wide in a smile as he held the ball aloft between two fingers. With deliberate slowness, Harry leaned across the space between them until those red eyes moved from his broom, from his body to lock with green.

Harry grinned. "I win."


	10. 10

"That's a load of bollocks, that is!"

"Ronald!"

"You're just fumin' you didn't think to pull him onto your team!" 

Ginny was howling with laughter as she landed, half-falling from the broom, but holding it high above her head as she turned. "I am the superior Alpha!" 

Harry was laughing, his feet touching down to land as he swiped the broomstick from beneath himself. He tossed the snitch up with one hand as the redheaded man swung to look at him, his own dismount awkward in his rage. 

"Like hell!" He snarled at Ginny, pointing the end of his broom at her as though it were his wand. "How the bloody hell did you know he could play quidditch like that?"

"Really, Ronald, the language." Molly was swiping at her face tiredly, one of the woman's hands clasped to her chest. Arthur was beaming by her side, his laugh deep and hearty as he clapped the arms of his seat. 

"I didn't actually," Ginny grinned, standing back as the rest of the players swept onto the field, their voices loud and melding into one. "I assumed he'd be decent, James and Lily both are so the lad had to have it in his blood, right? Merlin, though, he has you two beat hands down." 

She cackled as she turned to look at James, himself and Lily staring at Harry with mouths agape. He grinned back at them. "Youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a century."

"Hogwarts? Pants to Hogwarts!" Sirius was barreling towards him and Harry squawked as he was grabbed around the middle and suddenly lifted into the air. "Hogwarts ain't got nothin' on you, Champ! Did you see him fly, Lily! And that feint, Merlin, I haven't seen a stunt like that since Viktor Krum during the World Cup, remember Prongs?"

Harry was held aloft by the man, as if he weighed nothing. He was swung about with a familiarity that spoke of years of habit. The sound that came out of him was a half-sob, half-laugh and Harry struggled in the man's grasp to wind his arms around his neck. He snuffled his cold nose into the scent of wool and some expensive conditioner and, beneath all that, home. "I missed you so much, Padfoot" 

Sirius stilled, a soft, sad, little 'Ahh' leaving him as he brought his big hands up to wrap Harry in a fierce hug. His voice was gruff when he spoke, "You're home now, Prongslet."

"Quick hoggin' him, Mutt." 

Harry was whipped form Sirius' arms with little struggle, and wrapped in an unfamiliar pair that were no less fierce. His father's scent was stronger, warm and safe; and his mother's when she cooed and wrapped her arms around the pair of them with a breathy laugh, was just as intense. The couple together smelled of comfort, thick and inviting and he clutched at them as he laughed, peeking over Lily's shoulder to find red eyes regarding him with no small amount of amusement. 

Draco watched them with a small shake of his head, crossing his arms. He grinned suddenly, turning on Ginny with a smile that was all fang. 

"I get Potter next game."

"Like fuck you do!"

"Ronald!"

###

Harry woke the next day... Warm. 

He was wrapped in blankets his mother had brought back from their own home, both her and James happy to stay with Harry in Grimmauld Place for the time being. The house was familiar, was cosier than it had ever been and Harry found that he was enamored by its charm. 

Remus and Sirius had commandeered a room somewhere on the third floor, more than likely one that they had used in the past. From what Harry had learned, the pair spent a fair amount of time in the old house nowadays anyway, and were beyond delighted to be sharing it with Lily, James and Harry. 

Gregory and Tommy had gone back 'home' for the time being, though Harry was unsure where exactly that was, and had been too awkward in his lack of knowledge of the pair to ask. They seemed like a couple, though Harry didn't exactly have the greatest track record in observing who exactly fancied who. Hell, he was only now figuring out that he, himself, had been attracted to Draco bloody Malfoy for far longer than he was comfortable admitting. 

The green eyed boy dragged a hand through his dark curls, his fingers reaching to clasp at his heated cheeks with a shake to try and clear his foggy head. Maybe less blankets the following night... He groaned as he dug himself out of the mound-like nest he had made. He had always had a bit of an obsession with blankets, or staying warm in general given the measly amount of bedding he had been allowed in the Dursley's. 

Harry made a face, reaching out to grab his wand and holster with his eyes half-closed and strapping it to his arm one handed. The holster had been a gift from Hermione, and Harry let his fingers linger on the leather for a brief moment, his smile soft. He really hoped that she could tell that he was okay... That they all could. 

"Harry! Breakfast!" 

Harry grinned, struggling out of the blankets anew. He was more than okay. 

###

"Why is it, the second those two idiots get a day off together, we end up here. You're meant to be setting your son up a Gringott's account, you great, giant infant of a man!"

Harry stood in the front door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, biting his lip on a smile as he watched Lily tear passed him. She had her flashing, green eyes set on James and Sirius as she strode across the floor, only for the pair to catch sight of her and go running through the section of Skiving Snack Boxes and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Remus sighed beside him, the werewolf shaking his head seconds before there was an almighty crack and the corridor the men had sprinted down was suddenly doused in impenetrable darkness. 

"To be fair," Harry said as he heard his mother let loose a holler, Sirius snickering floating through the darkness that seemed confined to that one section, "She should have known better." 

"Yes, well," Remus glanced down at him, the man's short height bringing him just inches above Harry's own, "You go and tell Lily Potter that and see exactly where it lands you." 

Harry snorted, burying his nose in the pale yellow fleece he had thrown on despite the mild weather. "And be on their side?" There was a manly shriek as a stunner lit the darkness briefly and his father's voice came through in a round of curse words. "No thanks." 

Remus chuckled, glancing around at the people that were milling about, mostly trying to watch the debacle unfold through the darkness and the poor sales girl who was waving her wand and dancing about the outskirts of where the powder seemed to be spreading. "Oh, dear, I better go and help Sally." 

He took off at speed, Harry watching him go with a chuckle. There was a sudden bang and he yelped as the darkness swooped towards him. Before he could take off running, there was an arm around his waist and he was being hoisted back out the door. 

"Do you think he attracts bad luck like a sticking spell, Gred, or just happens to be in the wrong place?"

"Hard to tell, Forge, I would say sticking spell. How often can one small boy be in the wrong place at the wrong time? It's a skill, for sure."

"I am right here, you know." Harry was over one of George Weasley's shoulders. Broad as the man was, there was still an impressive amount of strength as he hoisted the younger boy like a sack of coal when Harry tried to wriggle his way free. 

Bloody werewolves.

It was not a position he thought he would ever be in in his life, that was for sure; and Harry felt his cheeks turn scarlet as Fred caught his eye and grinned, his hands tucked into his pockets. "What about your shop?" Harry glanced up to see shadows begin to leak out of the bottom tier windows, the customers racing from the front door with equal amounts thrill and terror on their faces. 

"I'd say Remus and Sally have it in hand, she's a fine witch is Sally." 

Harry blinked, watching as 'Sally' came bounding from the shop, her face a scowl and her wand lifting to form a simple bubble shield over the building. She grit her teeth as she stomped back through her own shield, rolling up the sleeves of her maroon robe. Sally did, indeed, appear to be a fine witch. 

Harry yelped as his world spun suddenly, and he found himself on his own two feet with two sets of smiles grinning down at him. He could do little but grin back. "Sorry they wrecked your shop." 

George flapped a hand in the air, Fred snorting as they continued walking. "They've done worse than that at busier times. Uncultivated, that's what Potter and Black are. My heart bleeds for Lily and Remus."

George nodded. "Saints," he murmured, "Absolute Saints."

They rounded the main square with Harry chuckling between them, his smile fond as he glanced around and nearly did a double take when he found a familiar head of white hair half-hidden in an alcove. His grin widened. 

"Draco!"

The blonde's back stiffened, his wings lifting once, as though to spread, before they settled back down and Draco was turning towards him. The Vampire's red eyes were wary, his mouth set in an almost resigned line that lifted to smile, all the same, when he laid eyes on Harry. There were others with him, Harry realised; grimacing at having interrupted something of the blonde's. He sidled up slowly, Fred and George staying close to his side as he took in the strangers. 

Except, they weren't. 

Harry knew the beautiful face of Daphne Greengrass even at a distance, her mouth spread wide in a smile that was filled with perfect, white teeth. Her blonde hair was perfectly coiled around her shoulders and her pastel blue robes screamed 'expensive'. By her side, half-lounged against her shoulder stood the tall, slender form of Blaise Zabini. The dark skinned man was as, if not more, pretty in face than the blonde woman. His features were perfect, black hair styled back and his eyes dark and curious as they glanced across the three new faces.

The final face was less familiar, purely because Harry had only ever known him to slink into the background. He had been smaller back in his own reality, Harry was sure. Now, he was tall; on parr with Draco and his lean arms were enclosed in a dark, green shirt as he crossed them across his front. His brown hair was curled, soft against his pale face and his eyes were an incredible gold that locked onto Harry's own. 

The noirette frowned, turning towards Draco and smiling up at him. 

"Harry," The blonde's voice was a low thrum, his red eyes skirting to George and Fred. The redhead's were stiff beside him, Fred leaning close to Harry as though to keep him hidden. What the hell?

"Eh..." Harry threw Fred a confused smile, "Hi, Draco."

"I had not thought that you would settle for a Beta... How dreadful for the Snape bloodline." 

The voice that spoke was elegant but stiff, odd in its lack of emotion and Harry turned to frown at Theodore. "I beg your pardon?"

Blaise hummed, his lips stretching in a wicked smile as he looked Harry up and down. "I dunno... If the little Beta's willing to get on his knees and beg... I can see the appeal." 

Harry felt himself flush, his mouth agape as Daphne let out a peal of laughter, her blonde curls bouncing about her shoulders. "Oh, Blaise!" She sighed, "You're so bold! Poor, pretty, confused baby..." she simpered the words down at Harry and he felt anger flash like a well-known friend in his blood. 

"At least I don't need to buy my prettiness."

Daphne snarled, her face contorting as Blaise let out a bark of laughter. The tall man leaned into Harry's space suddenly, his dark eyes flashing. "Does the kitten have claws? Think you can chew off a piece before you get stood on, little cat?"

"Zabini." 

Draco pulled Harry back with a growl, his lip pulling back over his fangs in a move that had Blaise snarling in response. "Let him be, he is of no concern of yours. "

Harry's gaze flickered down in time to catch Daphne grab her wand and aim it at him; and he lifted his hand with before he could even think it through, his eyes wide. The attack crackled like static across his shield, dark and dangerous, as he brought his arm back down and watched the black, spiderweb cracks of a curse flutter out of existence. He scowled at the blonde.

There was a beat, silent and still; before Harry suddenly found himself pulled from beside Draco. The hand on his arm was gentle, but firm all the same and Harry glared up at its owner. 

Theo tilted his head to one side, observing, curiosity bright in those intense golden eyes. He leaned slowly into Harry's space, a low thrum of a noise crawling from the man's throat that had something in Harry almost frozen. With a sigh, Theo drew in his scent; a smile flashing across his lips that showed a hint of fang. 

Vampire. 

Harry fell back against Draco, the blonde bringing a hand down on his shoulder in a grip that would have hurt had he any mind to care. How the hell was Theodore Nott a Vampire? Why the hell was Theodore Nott a Vampire? 

Theo hummed, his curious, strange eyes darting to meet Draco's. "Not a Beta... Un-presented..." Golden eyes trailed down to meet Harry's and the man's smile stretched, "But close..."

Close?

Draco's grip tightened, his fangs flashing in a sudden sneer. "I met with you, I heard your demands of the Snape family. Severus has already declined your Sire's offer, there is nothing more to talk about." 

Theo tensed, golden eyes wide, before melting back against Blaise with an easy, soft smile. "I will relay this response, though I promise nothing of whether he will stop. He is... enchanted, by your Sire." 

Gold eyes locked with green once more and Harry felt almost small beneath that gaze, his heart in his throat and fear skittering along his spine in a way it had not for a long, long while. Theo purred, smiling that soft smile once again. 

"We will speak again, Draco. Do take care of that little one, won't you? It would be dreadful if he was stolen away."


	11. 11

Harry watched the strange trio walk away, something faint and twitching at the back of his mind plucking against nerves suddenly frazzled. What the hell had all that been about? He pursed his lips, lifting a hand to scratch at his neck absently, only to have a hand grip his shoulder. He squeaked as he was whirled around to face a stony-faced blonde. 

"Harry, what the hell?"

What?

Draco scowled down at him, his red eyes flashing and his teeth barely concealed beneath the grimace of his mouth. Was Draco... mad at him? Harry frowned up at the blonde, watching as Fred and George sidled closer, their faces identical in their matching frowns and silver flashing eyes. Harry dropped his arm down, perplexed. 

"Why are you mad?"

Draco growled, the tone surprised and sparking something against the already frayed nerves that pricked beneath the underside of Harry's skin like some uncomfortable swath of clothing.   
"Why in Merlin's name would you use such a display of magic in front of them? What the hell was going through your head?"

Harry scowled, snatching back his shoulder from Draco's grip and glaring up at the three men frowning down at him. He felt small in a way he had never done before in his life. Though something soft and fragile was telling him to bear the rebuke with a grimace and apologise, anger was hot and heady in its wake. It was an emotion that was familiar, that was easy. He clenched his jaw. 

"Are you kidding me?" he snapped, a raw sense of delight in his stomach when the twins lifted their eyebrows to one another and Draco reared back. "Are you giving out to me... For defending myself?" 

Draco's eyes narrowed, the vampire sighing as he shook his head. "Never, Harry," his tone was raw, "I would never ask that of you, nor expect it. You were with friends, with family, we would have never allowed that spell to even glance off you." 

Harry felt his anger fizzle out, his brow furrowing. Draco frowned down at him. "Fred had his wand free, any spell of Greengrass' he was ready to counter. A Beta will always counter a Beta in opposing social groups. Your wandless magic..." The blonde shook his head, something bright in his eyes, "As incredible as it was, Harry, as incredible as it is... Nott is not a creature you would ever want to draw the attention of."

The Vampire's voice sank to a growl, George reaching out to grasp the blonde's forearm where it jerked suddenly by his side. Draco tsked, shoulders straightening. Harry watched it all unfold, his thoughts oddly tense, confused, tangled. 

"Alright..." He spoke slowly, a frown still marring his brow as he took a step back. "I took everyone by surprise, fair enough. Can you blame me, though? How was I supposed to know the guy was a Vampire? That ye weren't on friendly terms? Why the hell are so many of you creatures, anyway? Is it a Dynamics thing?"

At Harry's rant, Fred and George were beginning to look on edge, the pair glancing between one another before looking back at Draco. Was there some sort of social etiquette he wasn't getting here? Harry felt his confusion on his own face, knew he must look lost and bewildered. Was there more to this world than magic and scents and dynamics and social status? 

Draco merely watched him, his red eyes stern. With a grimace, the blonde reached for his wand, his voice steady and clear as he flicked his wrist and cast a Patronus, with the ease of having done so a thousand times before. The sudden flare of light had Harry jumping, his mouth agape as a massive, coiling serpent wrapped to life in streaks of white and silver. The beast rose on its body, slim and agile as its silver gaze settled steadily on Draco. 

"Tell them that we've gone back home. All is well, but Harry is in need of a history lesson."

The dark haired boy did not even have it in him to be annoyed by the phrasing used, his eyes wide as he watched the massive reptile bow its head once, before sinking low to the ground and vanishing swiftly amid the silvery cloud of Patronus smoke. 

"Come on then," Draco was grinning down at him when Harry glanced back up, holding out a hand and Fred and George vanished with matching smiles and a 'crack' of sudden apparition. Harry lifted a brow at Draco, and the blonde's grin spread wider, his fingers beckoning. "I won't bite..."

Harry felt his lips tug into a grin, clasping Draco's hand in his own and closing his eyes as the blonde's magic squeezed around him. 

###

Harry groaned, pushing Draco aside and almost barreling into one of the twins before they caught him with a laugh. 

"Not a fan of apparition?"

Harry straightened slowly, his stomach clenching and his head spinning as he blinked the sudden haze from his eyes. He bloody well hated apparating. The dark haired boy grimaced, blinking about the room. 

He blinked again. 

Harry felt something strange and painful twist in his stomach, his frayed nerves alive once more as he took in the sleek, well polished floors and walls of the Malfoy Manor foyer.

The staircase opened up to one side, large and sprawling and familiar, and chasing a hunted feeling down Harry's spine as he watched the portraits that lined one wall stare down at him curiously, their aristocratic features beautiful and... cold. 

He turned slowly, staring at a white hearth, carved from marble; too big and too clean, unused and pristine as it had been in his memory. The floors were as dark and sleek and he remembered, sparkling beneath the sunlight that streamed in from open windows. Once closed, velvet curtains that looked as though they might be heavy enough to weigh him down if he fell beneath them were now cast wide open. Unnatural. Surreal. His fingers twitched by his side, his lips parting on a near silent gasp as fragments of memories splayed across his mind. 

Shouting voices, snarled and hissed in human tones, loud and shrieking and full of fear and vicious delight. Malfoy's eyes, staring into his own, the spark of familiarity there pooling dread in Harry's gut as quickly as confusion, frowning as the blonde shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. 

'I... I can't be sure...' 

His voice distant in Harry's ears now, green eyes flitting to take in the span of brilliant, white marble columns that adorned the hallway... Had they always been that... Big?

'What's wrong with his face?'

Anger... The blonde's own features suddenly taut, suddenly... Angry... 

Why had he been angry?

"...Harry?"

Hermione's scream was loud and shrill, the sound drawing from him a sharp, panicked hiss that he sucked in just as quickly. He lifted trembling hands to clap them over his ears as the sound seemed to echo on, his eyes squeezing shut and his breath coming in short, frantic little huffs. 

'Let her go.' 

Ron's vicious snarl, just as loud and dark in his ears had Harry pushing harder with his hands, his steps weak, faltering as he tried to walk back, away from the room splayed out before him, away from the memories nipping sharp and cruel against his mind. Ron still woke from those nightmares... Still woke screaming Hermione's name and reaching out... 

Harry saw blood pool against the woman's arm, the horrid, cruel word forever etched into her skin like a brand. It had never healed. She wore long sleeves on warm days because of that mark. 

"Harry!"

Harry whimpered, the noise shrill and sharp, his lips parting on the breaths he tried desperately to drag into his lungs. They were full of useless air, fit to bursting and still starved of oxygen... Empty... How could he feel so full of everything and so very, very... Empty. 

As suddenly as the memories threatened to overload him, to drag him into some twisted, tormenting spiral... They stopped. 

Harry's breath hitched in his throat, blinking lashes wet with tears he had not even felt fall. His hands were by his sides, trapped beneath another set of arms that were strong but slender, wrapped in black. The space around him was dark, a warm, solid darkness that stilled whatever thoughts were flittering rampantly still on the edges of his mind. 

He breathed, a lone strangled gasp that all but choked out of him. 

Memories. 

Memories and nightmares... That was all that they were. 

The arms around him stayed tight, but the chest he realised he was pushed up against drew back slowly, a low thrumming sound echoing deep within it that had him gripping the front of the shirt with one, shivering hand. A voice hushed him, crooning softly, and Harry tried to blink past the tears. 

"Take your time, 'Arry... Breathe, mon petit... You are safe. I 'ave you."

The french accent over the low, calming voice that could only be Severus Snape had Harry suddenly planted in the present. Familiar as those tones were, they had never been spoken to him with such softness, such warmth. 

Harry took another breath, and though he grimaced at himself and tried to loosen his grip in the silk of Severus' shirt; something in him clawed and whined at the prospect of losing the physical contact. The older vampire's gentle purr was calming to him in a way nothing else had been. Something frantic and panicked in his head was suddenly still, his body lax beneath the scent of copper and warmth and, beneath it all, the perfume of a thousand potions. 

He slumped in the man's grasp and groaned when Severus laughed at him, the sound odd and fond; but no less welcome. When the darkness receded slowly, Harry blinked dazed eyes to see that it had been the Vampire's wings around him that had caused the sudden eclipse. The leather appendages had cocooned around their bodies, drawing them away from the scene of Harry's nightmares. 

He frowned, slumped as he was with his body's sudden relaxation, Harry could make out shelves upon shelves of books around them. He had been moved, without his realisation, to a room that looked more like a library. It was piled ceiling to floor with tomes, new and old. The curtains that had been pulled across tall windows were pale and light. 

Harry let loose some sort of squeak of a noise as he was dropped abruptly, before realising that he was being passed on to someone else. Draco glanced down at him with a furrow between his brows, the blonde's arms tight around his middle as he pulled Harry's smaller body onto his lap from where he was seated in a massive, plush armchair. Harry glanced up at him for a moment, thoughts soft and hazy and almost... Fuzzy.

The green eyed boy grinned, nuzzling his nose into the expanse of white throat on show and sighing when blonde hair tickled his cheek and Draco's safe, soft, sweet, scent washed over him. 

"Scent drunk." 

Severus' voice was amused, his fingers trailing over Harry's cheek as the boy's green eyes fluttered closed. "I 'ad forgotten zat ze boy was not used to scents yet, I meant only to calm 'im down." The dark haired Vampire smiled, flashing small white fangs. "Zis also works."

Fred leaned over the back of the armchair, his eyes on the small thing falling fast into sleep. Harry looked so very small on Draco's lap, the boy tucking his nose into the crook of Draco's neck as though he was seeking comfort in the scent. "Will he be okay?"

George watched Severus straighten, the omega's wings flaring once in a stretch before he slid them back against his spine. His dark hair was clasped back, his feet covered only by his socks which let the redhead know that he had been lounging somewhere in the manor before rushing in at the scent and sound of Harry's distress, and whisking them away to the library. 

"It was most likely a panic attack, I do think the little thing will be okay." 

Narcissa Malfoy smiled down at her son when Draco glanced up at her, the man at least having the decency to flush as his mother watched him clutch the younger boy closer. Her pale hair was loose about her shoulders, and her robes were casual and silver, not a jewel to be seen. Still, the Lady Malfoy looked every bit her regal self as she clapped her hands together and smiled at them. 

"I shall have lunch prepared then, shall I?" 

###

Harry woke to a pair of bright, familiar, grey eyes looking down on him. 

In his sleep-fogged brain, the only possible thing he could do was squint, thoughts sluggish and slow. 

"Malfoy?"

There was a laugh, soft and sweet. "In a sense, yes. Hello, Mr. Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Harry shot up, the full image of Narcissa Malfoy coming into view as his head began to clear and he nearly vaulted off of the seat he was in. A hand on his shoulder steadied him back down and Harry snapped his head back to take in the smiling face of Severus Snape. 

Recent memories were swift to remind him of his actions and Harry groaned, one hand lifting to scrub across his eyes. 

"Oh, good! You're up." 

Harry grimaced over the top of his fingers, turning away from the equally unnerving smiles to watch as Draco drew aside a stiff wooden chair from the table he had been at and pulled it closer to the two-seater couch Harry must have been sleeping on. 

Merlin, he had fallen asleep in Malfoy Manor library.

Harry lifted a hand to his head as a spark of pain throbbed through it, only for Fred to appear at his other side with a cup of tea that was easily coaxed into his hands. 

"It's got a pain reliever in it," The redhead said with a smile, "Remus swears by a pain relief, tea mixture after a sudden flux in emotions." 

"Not to mention the sixteen spoons of honey you doused it in." George supplied behind him. Harry ignored them all in favour of focusing his sole attention on the cup he was currently sipping out of, his cheeks steadily flushing a bright red. 

It had been a solid few weeks since he had had any attack like the one he had just had; but, he supposed, it had been longer than that since he had been inside Malfoy Manor. Harry had not even visited the house in the aftermath of the trial for Narcissa and her son, despite the woman's insistence that he do so. Every letter of hers had sought to thank him for all he had done for her, for her son. He had not had the heart to keep repeating that he owed her her freedom and so much more. If it were not for Narcissa Malfoy's devotion to her child, Harry would be dead and Voldemort would have won. 

As much as he respected her, though, and as much as he admired the woman she had slowly become in the absence of her husband; Harry had not been able to bring himself to go back through the gates he had once walked down. He understood why, now. Memories could be haunting, even in the light of day. 

"Mrs. Malfoy," Harry sighed into the silence, straightening himself against the back of the couch and looking the woman in the eye. "I am so sorry to be meeting you under these circumstances. I assure you, had I known that I would be arriving in Malfoy Manor, I would have better prepared myself."

Narcissa was as beautiful as her son, as tall and willowy with her immaculate pale hair. Her grey eyes narrowed briefly, before she smiled at his words and tutted softly. "There is no need for formalities, dear. Draco has informed me of your life and I am told it was not an easy one. Whatever experience you have come to have in my home that would cause such a reaction, you need not speak of it; and I am sorry for it."

Harry set his empty cup on his lap, eyes soft. "Easy is not something I am accustomed to, but this is a different world to the one where I'm from and I can only keep reminding myself of the fact. You need never apologise to me, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa hummed a soft noise, her lips lifting in a full smile. "Narcissa, dear. If my Draco's intentions are as I believe them to be, you may call me Narcissa. Mr. Potter, you are a remarkable young man." 

Harry grinned, "I am indebted to the people who have made me who I am, and that includes you, Narcissa." He beamed suddenly, the woman so familiar, the conversations with her as eloquent and patient and ridiculously easy as the ones he had had with Mrs. Malfoy back in his own reality. "Call me Harry."

Narcissa inclined her head, standing suddenly with an easy grace.

"I will see that lunch is coming along, Severus, do me a dear and accompany me?"

The Vampire moved to follow her, only for one of Harry's hands to reach out blindly and catch the cuff of Severus' sleeve. The dark haired boy was flushed with embarrassment, but his eyes were no less sincere when he glanced up to meet the older man's. "Thank you." 

Severus smiled, soft and small, before reaching a hand out to grasp Harry's. "You are most welcome, mon petit."

Harry watched the both of them leave, before turning to look at the three other men that were gaping at him. 

"Blimey..." George whispered, lounging against the back of Draco's seat. "I've never seen Mrs. Malfoy warm so quickly to anybody."

"Too right, George," Fred shook his head, his brows disappearing beneath his red fringe. "That is one scary as all hell Beta when she wants to be..." He glanced back at Harry, smirking, "And you just got on a first name basis in under two minutes."

The twins shuffled, standing and walking towards the open doorway as they talked between themselves, grinning and pushing until George collided with the frame and Fred took off running with a laugh. They moved as though they were familiar with the Manor... As though they had been there multiple times. He was beginning to realise that there were portions to this world that were incredibly different to his own... 

Harry was jolted from his thoughts by a body joining his on the couch, Draco twisting to face him and an impressive sized, leather bound tome held in his hands.   
Red eyes locked with Harry's, the blonde's face impassive for a moment. "You speak with my mother differently... Did you come to know your version of her well?"

Harry set his cup down on the carpeted floor beside the couch, his cheeks bright still. As clearly as he remembered being calmed down by Snape... Harry could also remember those pale arms wrapped around him as he drifted to sleep. He cleared his throat. 

"Not well, exactly..." He tilted his head, "I guess I just could understand her better? Like I said before, your mam saved me Draco. Without her, I'd have been a goner. I have nothing but respect for Narcissa Malfoy... Any version of her."

He turned to smile at the blonde, and his breath stuttered to a skip when he realised that Draco had leaned closer. Red eyes peered down at him, one brow lifting. His lips were brushed once with Draco's own, the touch incredibly soft and gentle. The Vampire pulled back with a soft, little smirk, his hands sliding up the binding of the book in his lap. 

"Make no mistake that I will query at a later stage what it was exactly that caused such an attack in my home. I will know everything about you, Harry; the good and the bad and the boring in between. "

Draco's voice was soft, low in the dim lighting of the library with the curtains pulled as they were. The blonde lifted his wand to cast a charm towards the light above them, his features incredibly defined in the gentle glow as he grinned. "But, right now, lunch will soon be prepared and you are in need of a history lesson."


	12. 12

"I will start somewhere in the beginning of where I believe would be most appropriate. I will tell you what I know and answer whatever questions you may have, is that agreeable with you?"

Harry nodded, pulling his knees in to sit cross-legged on his side of the two-person couch. The room was quiet, no draft or whispered hum from around the manor to break the still. 

Draco sat with one leg beneath him balancing the history book, the other planted firmly on the carpet and his blonde hair held back with a gold clasp that he had taken from the pocket of his robes. His forearms were bare, the dark sleeves pushed up to his elbows; they were slender with lean muscle as he moved the book idly, as though it weighed little.

"Perfect," The Vampire flashed him a smile filled with fang, his red eyes bright. "Alright...

"Hogwarts was founded by four incredibly powerful Alphas. In the time of the Founders, muggles had grown wary of witchcraft, incensed by anything wicked, or abnormal. Religion took fast hold in small towns and forced bad blood between those with magic, and those without. The unease, the fear, the killings... All of this led to a rift between the founders and Slytherin believed that their newly formed school should include only those who had known magic their entire lives. 

"The others were not so keen on such a notion. To include only the children born to magical parents meant muggleborn witches and wizards would be left to fend for themselves. In a time where one might have been hanged at the tender age of eleven for the simple act of floating a feather, this did not sit well with the founders. While pureblood children were often born strong, often presented as Alphas; the four soon realised that the line of magic could become diluted, could fizzle to nothing with the lack of pureblood Omegas being born. Slytherin conceded for the preservation of magic; but worked at night with young muggleborns to teach them the ways of the wizarding world, our culture, our traditions, our way of being."

That was new. 

Harry perked, brow lifting as he leaned closer when Draco opened the book and swiveled it to face him. The page he had opened it onto was filled on one side with handwritten Latin, beautifully curved and perfectly penned on the crisp, faded, ivory parchment. The second page was an image of the Hogwarts crest, though it was basic and worn with age. Draco flipped it over softly, showing the next page to be an image of two women. 

The one on the right was most definitely Rowena Ravenclaw, Harry realised, her likeness to her daughter, Helena, was indisputable. She was stoic and fair looking, her brown hair to her waist in a mass of curls that hung about a dress a brilliant blue. The woman beside her then, smiling up at Harry with her intricately braided black hair, must have been Helga Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff was shorter by just a fraction, face pale and kind and her dress a vivid yellow that cinched in her tiny waist before falling into ruffled skirts. Harry stared down at them, before glancing up at Draco. The blonde raised a brow. "Still with me?"  
At the younger boy's nod, he continued. 

"Ravenclaw soon realised that when bloodlines were mixed, meaning from a muggleborn and a pureblood; that it resulted in more Alpha males, more female Beta children to a higher ratio than any other blood pairing; lines could prosper and birth rates could rise. The melding between the bloodlines was encouraged, celebrated just as strongly as they had once celebrated a sacred union between pureblood lines. New families formed, new connections were made.

"For a while... There was peace, between the humans who feared us and the wizards and witches who learned to hide in plain sight. The classes Slytherin had been so keen on, to acclimatize the muggleborn children, grew less and less until they were deemed unnecessary by new teachers. Muggleborns began to bring in their own customs, their own beliefs. As years passed, they were brought to the school older and older, until they arrived with pre-conceived notions and an instilled fear of all things... Different. A fear of the strange, the unknown, the dark..."

Harry frowned as Draco flipped the page, showing him a portrait that could only be Godric Gryffindor. The man was broad, tall and stern as he stared with bright blue eyes. His red hair was loose to his shoulders, the sword of Gryffindor clasped in one armored hand. The man on the other side, was just as stern of face, but young. While Salazar Slytherin's features were more delicate, his tall form more lean and encased in vivid green robes, he looked no less imposing. His green eyes were extremely bright and his pale, silver hair was to his waist and clasped neatly in a braid. 

It was... Not what Harry had been expecting to see. 

"When Slytherin brought creatures whom he had offered refuge to in his travels, to the castle and the surrounding forests, the muggleborn children grew frightened. Though Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tried to teach them of the creatures, tried to show them their beauty; it was too late. Creatures were struck down if they so much as approached the castle, hounded into the forest's deepest, darkest parts with cruel words and crueler spells. Slytherin's beloved beast, his basilisk, was slaughtered when students stumbled upon his Chamber."

Harry jolted, his eyes lifting to find a pair of red ones already on him. The Vampire smiled softly, nudging Harry's knee with his own and a gentle whisper. "I do believe being twelve, defending yourself from a Horcrux and fighting for your life does not count as slaughter, Harry." He continued at a louder volume, leaning back to allow Harry time to look at the book in his hands.

"Furious, Slytherin cast the muggleborns who had tormented so many into the forests; and begged help from the 'dark' creatures that resided there to show the young witches and wizards the error of their ways. He sought help from the Vampires to teach them lessons in the dark of night, sought help from the Werewolf packs to guide them through their presentations, and teach them instinct. Incubi, Mermaids, Succubi, Centaurs, Ghosts... He enlisted them all when the rest of the world cast them aside as nightmares and ghouls. 

"When the children seemed to fear no more from the world around them, when they grew humble and brave, wise enough to offer the creatures that taught them kindness and respect; the founders allowed the students back and Gryffindor made a Professor of every creature that had taught in the forest."

Harry was enraptured, eyes wide as Draco flicked over page after page lined with stiff sheet of Latin after stiff sheet. The words poured across the parchment, splashes of colourful paintings of creatures spaced throughout. A mermaid drawn in a rough sketch of blues and greens, a Vampire cloaked in black, leather wings and flashing fangs. A werewolf howled agaisnt a full moon on the next turn, covered in black fur with glinting golden eyes. 

"Over the years, the wizards, witches, the creatures who wanted to learn and the creatures who taught them, formed a bond. They formed friend circles, family lines, magical blood and creature blood intermingled until nearly every bloodline held creature at its core. The mix of magic and creature lineage led to stronger children, more Omegas born, heritages passed done from generation to generation."

Harry sat back with a huff, frowning at Draco. "Slytherin... didn't want to get rid of all the muggleborns...? He... taught them?"

The blonde nodded, his red eyes bright. "Slytherin is credited with forcing the bond between bloodlines. Both he and Gryffindor are renowned for the work they did in boosting the population of wizard-kind. They helped build villages, taught children long into their older years. They're incredibly revered names. When... You-Know-Who first made an appearance and claimed he was the heir of Slytherin; many flocked to him." 

The man's eyes grew dark, his fingers gripping the edge of the tome. "He made a name for himself as the birth rate dropped, as people grew wary and unsure. He was handsome, charming. He was the epitome of the perfect Alpha, and he spoke of making the wizarding world pure, of a way of uniting bloodlines once again to produce more children. With so many desperate Omegas wading through complication after complication, they were willing to listen; more than willing to beg their Alphas, their Betas to hear what the man was whispering... And some Alphas listened. Some Alphas grew angry, began to believe his lies."

There was a low growl and Harry felt a small thrill race down his spine as the Vampire's eyes flashed. "The madman wanted to pull away from muggles and creatures alike, spouted poison of dirty blood, of a betrayal of magic itself in our cores. He swayed many minds before his defeat; creature and wizard alike, and we are battling still with creatures intent on going back to the 'old ways', with school children and stubborn families who believe creatures are now inherently 'dark'."

Red eyes glanced up, the man's head tilting to one side. "I believed you to be of the same mindset when we first met. If creatures are uncommon to you, Harry, I can only assume that there is no such connection between the bloodlines in your world. If you were raised with such fears..." Draco's mouth drew down, his shoulders stiff, "We are not monsters... Our lives have been intertwined with creatures for centuries. Born by them, taught by them, befriended by them, sired by them... It is an honour to be named an Heir to a creature's line, it is an honour to be held in high esteem by a creature... Wayward Clans and Packs remain, rogue and full of fear just as wayward wizards remain, few in number and full of anger. But, please know..."

A hand lifted his own and Harry flushed as those slender, pale fingers entwined with his, before he glanced back up into sincere red eyes. 

"You have nothing to fear from me."

The dark haired boy grinned, his cheeks flushing dark. "You wish you could ever be big and bad enough to scare me, Draco." 

The Vampire chuckled back, dark and low as he leaned in to flash those ridiculous fangs. "Is that so?"

Harry felt his pulse quicken, a quick flash of those red eyes against his neck enough to let him know that the Vampire could tell... He could hear it... 

Harry choked. His Gryffindor bravery seemed to reached its limit.

"Eh... Yes? Oh, Coming Fred, be right there, George!" Harry yelled into the silence, scattering smaller, newer books across the table as he darted up from the couch and walked on rigid legs out the library door. 

It was only as he heard the bark of dark laughter behind him that Harry realised that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. 

###

Once Draco had caught up with the dark haired boy, he grabbed Harry easily around the middle and apparated them both directly into the dining room. Harry's reaction to the foyer was one that was still fresh in his mind. 

The boy had paled so quickly, his scent sharp and twisted into something raw with fear as his eyes darkened with a memory that Draco wished he could tear from his mind with his own fingers. The blonde had felt useless, his voice falling on deaf ears as Harry spilled those heart-broken whimpers and clutched his own head. 

He watched the boy stare around the elegant, bright room now, his eyes alight despite the pink flush that still painted his cheeks. 

If Severus had not shown up, had not heard the boy's cry as only an Omega could hear from so far away; Draco would have torn the house down around them just to put an end to those pained whimpers. 

He was fast becoming infatuated with the youth, with everything and anything that was Harry Potter. His face, his smile, his green eyes that faded so quickly to darker thoughts and bounced back with ease to sharp and sudden laughter. Harry was kind, he was strong, he was powerful and funny... 

And the scent that was beginning to take form beneath the powerful perfume of his anxious magic clamored against Draco's senses in a way that had every nerve alert. 

He sat Harry to his right, offering his mother and Sire a low nod as Fred leaned across the slim, silver table to start loading sliced fruit onto Harry's plate. The Beta grinned as Harry sniped something up at him, blue eyes bright as Draco sat and shared a glance with George. The pair had been friends of his for years, familiar and trusting, as most of the Weasley family was. 

"So..." Harry spoke up suddenly, swallowing the slice of mango in his mouth and pointing a finger at Fred. "If what I've been learning is right, then werewolves are also a technically 'dark' creature, that wizards are okay with?"

Fred's eyes flashed silver once, his gaze darting to his twin's face as the minimally taller redhead grinned. 

"Well, this whole mess isn't okay, obviously," George chuckled, pointing to the scars across his face that shone silver beneath the sunlight streaming in the main window. "Werewolves are a bit of a loose canon. Most are lovely, born werewolves who've lives with the instincts all their lives, or bitten and perfectly delightful; like yours truly and our dear Moony. With the new wolfesbane potion, the transformation isn't even painful." 

Fred nodded, "You drink, shift with the moon and retain full mental capacity. You're you, but not. Instinct gets a little sharper, bloodlust is a little higher, but it's all managable."

George pointed his fork at Harry, eyes narrowing, "But you do get your 'purists', who believe that in taking the wolfesbane, we're denying some higher calling or some rubbish."

"Which, essentially, is just a bloody excuse to be an ass and hurt people," Fred rolled his eyes with a snort. "Not a good mindset, so they're few and far between. They usually form rogue clans, band together to try and avoid doing too much damage."

"Because too much damage, one too many injured muggles, so much as one human kill..." George's eyes flashed silver, spearing the egg of his plate with a knife and earning a scowl from Severus.

"And you're brought before the Council." Fred grinned, his teeth almost sharp against his bottom lip. 

"The Council?"

Draco spared a glance away from his own food, throwing a napkin across Harry's lap when the boy held a slice of melon aloft, the fruit dripping onto his trousers. "The Council is the creature equivalent to the Ministry of Magic. One dictates the laws of wizards, one the laws of creatures. They work in the same building, and hold meetings to ensure balance is maintained. An incident that involves both a wizard and a creature evokes a trial of both Wizemgamot and Council-members."

George was nodding, "So when I was unlucky enough to be scratched up by one of these rogue wolves, he was brought before the both. The Wizemgamot came to the verdict that he would be rehabilitated in Azkaban, and the Council..."

He cast a small smile at Fred, who beamed up at him, before turning to Harry, "The Council granted my request to received the bite so that George wouldn't go through the first transformation alone. Remus, being the closest werewolf in proximity to us, was granted us as two Heirs to train and mould to his heart's desire!"

"Not zat ze poor man 'as 'ad even a remotely decent influence on you two lunatics..." Severus intoned dryly, earning a snort of laughter from a wide eyed Harry. 

The boy was grinning up at Fred and George and Draco's lips lifted in a smile at the look of awe. George ruffled his brother's hair fondly, something full of admiration in the Alpha's eyes as his redheaded twin grinned up at him. 

Draco felt a dark, cloying... want... snake against his spine as those big green eyes locked on his, Harry's lips tilting in a sweet smile. The youth's hair was wild about his face, full of large curls where it settled at the nape of his snow white neck. 

He glanced away, a pink flush rising fast to his cheeks when his eyes fell on his mother peering at him, the woman's chin braced on her fingers as her eyes lit bright with amusement. Severus was lifting an eyebrow in his direction, his Sire's amusement ringing low and distant in whatever remained of the bond between them. It would fast and gently Draco knew, as soon as he claimed another. 

The blonde felt himself shudder beneath Harry's sudden chuckle, the sound bright and pleasant. 

Salazar, help him, but he was already besotted.


	13. 13

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

Harry paused, lifting the quill in his hand to brace the feathered tip against his lips. There were books and parchment sprawled across the dining table in front of him; Grimmauld place quiet for the moment in the absence of everyone else. His father and Sirius he knew to be at work, though where his mother and Remus were was anyone's guess. 

Harry glanced across the old, wooden table to where Draco was leaning across his own documents, though these looked a tad more formal than the textbooks and history books that Harry was fast losing interest in. It was not as if they weren't interesting, they were, incredibly so. 

But there was an itch beneath his skin that had been subtly bugging him for the past day and it made for a short attention span at the best of times, least of all when the man across from him was trying to get him to study a whole world of history all the while looking immensely... 

Harry's eyes trailed over the blonde's exposed arms as Draco set a scroll aside with a flourish of his signature and turned in his seat to lay out another. 

"Any day, Harry."

Harry grimaced, his mouth snapping open. "What is it you do?"

Draco paused, his red eyes lifting from his reading to tilt his head. "I suppose that would be something you'd be curious over, wouldn't it? My counterpart was the same age as you, correct?" The blonde grinned, one strand of silver blonde hair slipping from the clasp he bound it in and falling over his eye. 

Harry nodded slowly. 

"At the moment I am Severus' apprentice. As Heir to both the Snape and Malfoy name and lineage, it is my duty to see over any legalities. Obviously, there are investments in the Snape name that my Sire sees over himself, but some are entrusted to me. I handle rent overviews for any properties, banking investments, missives, and all the like. In my spare time, I learn potions under Severus' Mastery. He is gifted and I hope to one day be as good as he is." The blonde seemed to think for a moment, his eyes darting up to meet Harry's before he glanced back down. "I also handle any courtship offers that Severus or mother might receive."

Harry felt his brow rise, something of a snort leaving him. "You decide who gets to date your Mum and Snape?"

Draco leveled a dry look at him, the blonde sinking back in the dining chair and aiming his wand at the teapot between them to heat once more. "No, you arse." 

Harry snorted a laugh into the crook of his elbow, tapping a finger against the head of the snake that wound idly from the sunny spot on the table top up his arm. Tom had grown bigger in the week that had passed, near the length of Harry's arm, now that the poor thing was not confined to the small box he had had in the Menagerie. His colouring had shifted to a slate gray, the yellow stripe across his back dulling to a tempered gold. Harry wasn't so sure anymore that he was just a simple garden snake, but the serpent was harmless and sweet; even Sirius had taken to it. 

"Courtship offers aren't just a way of expressing a fancy in someone; they are a means of securing a potentially powerful, potentially sought after mate. With my father's mind gone, many view this as an easy way of becoming closer with my mother in order to secure the Malfoy name and fortune. My mother may sometimes be lonesome, but she is fierce in her loyalty to Lucius Malfoy." Draco's mouth twitched, his eyes fond. "She will bond no other, even though her bonding mark fades every year." 

Harry thought back to the regal woman he had had several lunches with since their horrible first meeting, hearing Narcissa's laughter and wry voice in his mind. As proud as she was, he did not doubt that the woman would allow herself to grow lonely to honour her husband. A sad sort of tribute... He hummed softly, petting Tom's crown over the soft, yellow spines that had begun to taper off the top of his head. 

"When I was of age, being the household Alpha, the courtship requests automatically started coming to me and mother was glad to be rid of them, so it is no hardship." His eyes darkened, "Severus receives near weekly 'gifts' from those attempting to tempt his favour. His name is an honoured one among the Vampire clans and the fact that he remains to this day an unbonded Omega has done more than ruffle a few wings." 

Harry half-grinned as the blonde ruffled his own wings in tandem, the black, scaled dragon-like appendages stretching free from the man's spine briefly. "But, isn't that his choice, though? Surely, people would have gotten the idea by now."

"You would think." Draco replied dryly. "Severus has long known that he could never bear a child. He held little desire for children even in his youth and even less so now. Still, it is not common knowledge that he is sterile, and most others would bond him regardless; the man comes from noble vampire blood, diluted as it is. He is powerful despite those that choose to see him only as an Omega. He is a gifted mentor, a potions Master and incredibly stuck in his ways. He would create quite the scene if someone were to approach him for a courtship outright." 

Harry thought back to the stoic-faced potions professor in his memory, comparing the stern, scowling face with the dark-eyed, handsome, quiet presence of the Vampire Severus. He grinned, there was a resemblance in a love of black and sheer stubbornness if nothing else. 

"So... What you've essentially said is you handle all the boring paperwork stuff and the Omega and lady closest to you get to enjoy their lives; creep free?"

Draco laughed, bright and sincere. "I suppose, in a way, yes." His red eyes caught on to Harry's own and softened as the boy smiled up at him. "It is an Alpha's duty to ensure anyone in their protection or friendship is happy and safe. That is how my father raised me and it is how my Sire continues to guide me."

Harry felt his brow furrow, his lips twisting suddenly. "I really like you." 

Draco huffed a laugh, his fangs flashing. "Well, don't say it with such a face."

Harry drew himself back in the chair, mindful of Tom as the snake looped around his neck. "No, I mean... I really like you. You're an incredibly decent guy, Draco. You're carrying on your dad's line and Snape's line and you make sure everyone around you is eating before you take a seat at the table... You're funny, you're smart... Why the hell are all the courtship offers coming in for Severus and not you?"

Draco seemed surprised, his brows lifting as he stood suddenly and moved around the table. The blonde dragged Harry's chair out, kneeling before the younger boy and looking up at him with keen eyes. "I have gotten many courtship offers, and have chosen to turn away all of them." 

"You have?"

Draco nodded, once. "Over the years, those who have not managed to win Severus' attention do not stop at him. I have had fathers offer their daughters' hands, Sires offer their Heirs, mothers offer their Omegas. I burned each and every letter that offers practical matches and political bondings. None appealed to me."

Harry watched Draco cup his hand steadily, the vampire's thumb rubbing against his wrist softly, slowly. "Why?"

Draco smiled, his eyes bright. "I watched my mother adore my father, Harry. I grew up seeing the interactions between Arthur and Molly, the battles filled with laughter and shrieks between James and Lily. I have seen the way Sirius stares at Remus... I wanted to know what falling in love felt like." 

Harry felt something in him whine, his lips pressing down hard over the sound as Draco's fingers cupped his chin and titled his face up so that his green eyes could meet red. "I did things right, I sent my courtship request to your father days ago, Harry. James Potter scraped the lot and told me to win you over myself, the old fashioned way. I am sorry if that upset you, or if you misunderstood my intent when I kissed you. You are invaluable to me even now, and I thought you would prefer things... A little less traditional?"

Harry dropped his head down against Draco's shoulder, one hand flying up to cover the man's rambling mouth. With a sigh, he took in the thrill the blonde's words had sent through him, the itching beneath his skin settling for the briefest moment. He breathed in deep breaths of that safe, warm, heady scent that seemed to roll off of Draco and felt a tension he had not even been aware of coil loose in his stomach. 

Relief. 

Relief that Draco was picking him. Merlin, he was a soft touch.

"Sure," he chuckled eventually, his head shaking even as he smiled. "That sounds good." 

He lifted his face, and Draco's worried frown vanished at the smile Harry aimed at him, the Vampire smiling back softly and humming a low sound that sounded almost like a muted purr. 

"Harry, look what I've- Whoops!"

"Lily, for the love of-"

Harry bound up from his seat, his cheeks flushed scarlet as his sudden movement knocked Draco back and sprawled the blonde across the wooden floor.   
The Vampire stayed where he lay, crossing his legs and with one eyebrow cocked as he turned to take in the sight of Lily and Remus in the doorway. The werewolf was clutching his face in his hands and the woman was sheepishly grinning down at them both, a cluster of bags in her hands. 

"Bad timing? Sorry Draco, love. Harry, come here and look what we've found you for the Hunting Festival?"

"The what?" Harry felt his face pull in a grimace as Lily dropped the bags across the table, growling when some fell to the floor. She straightened them with a flick of her wand and turned to the blonde making his way off the ground. 

"Draco, you didn't tell him? 

"I was getting to it." Draco cast her a glance, his eyes narrowed and the redheaded woman grimaced, her hand reaching out to pat the younger man's shoulder, "Oops?"

"The Hunting Festival is exactly what it's called, Harry." Remus' voice came from his other side and Harry turned to watch the man put the back of his hand to the teapot of the table with a grin. He flicked his wand to gather in several mugs and pour the tea, offering one to Harry with a smile. "It's a Festival held in a different part of the world every year that promotes Creature-Wizard unity. It usually goes on for the week, has spectacles and sports arranged by the Council and Wizengamot. You can show off your talents, play quidditch, get to know people, make friends, meet friends you haven't seen in a while. It's... A very, lovely experience."

"And..." Lily turned Harry by the shoulders, grinning so wide that the younger boy could not help but match it with his own. "This year it's happening in Scotland! It'll be so much fun, Harry! It lets young people meet potential mates, show off their mates; there are bonding ceremonies carried out between new couples. The Festival usually takes place in one of the older buildings with massive grounds and lodgings available to all who want to stay or tents for people who are fond of camping. Food is always taken care of by the Council and there's so much to eat and see and do and... This is your very first one!"

Lily grinned, hugging him close and flicking her wand at the shopping bags until fabric was pulled from them, shimmering and silver beneath the sunlight. "I know we should have really let you pick out your own First Greet outfit, you're old enough; but I just couldn't help myself." 

Harry watched the sleek, silver robes flutter in the air, his eyes wide. The robes were light and sleeveless, a high collar trimmed in gold with golden buttons down the neatly tailored front. The material flared at the hips, open enough to peek glimpses at the slim, black trousers beneath amid layers of golden chiffon and an intricate golden embroidery that spread across the hem. 

Draco was walking around the floating outfit, his mouth tugging in a smile. Harry watched him reach out to pull a wrinkle from the collar, smooth fingers stretching over the tight-fitting back of it. 

Suddenly... Harry could not wait to be in those robes. 

He grinned. "They're incredible! Do I need a new outfit, though? I mean, you've bought me so many clothes already." 

"One can never have too many outfits." Draco muttered from where he was inspecting the black boots that floated beside the silver set of dress robes, his fingers clasped around the short heel as he rubbed a thumb into the material. 

Remus hummed, settling into a chair with his mug of tea as he nodded. "An outfit for your First Greet is important. Curiosity will be aimed at you, eyes will be on you. While these Festivals are for enjoyment and fun and meeting friends; they are also politically and bloodline driven. There will be many who would view themselves potential suitors, or those looking to be claimed and bonded. Your mother's outfit for you is a clever one." 

Lily nodded, one finger lifting to tap her lip before her eyes zeroed in on the snake snoozing around Harry's neck and she smiled. "The gold work around the bottom is an old Potter protective rune, and they've got protection spells woven into the fabric. I asked her to leave it sleeveless as these events get warm and I wanted you to have access to your wand holster. The boots are charmed with a cushioning spell should you need to run."

Harry turned to frown at the robes, suddenly taking them in in a new light. The amount of work gone into such a gestures, he felt his throat work around a sudden tightness as he glanced back at his mother. "Thank you." 

Lily grinned, leaning in to kiss his head and hug him with one arm. "Not that you need all that protection when you've got your own, personal Batman over there." 

The muggle reference made Harry bark out a sudden laugh, as he turned to watch Draco tap the boots with his own wand with a satisfied grunt. 

A Hunting Festival... That didn't sound ominous in the least. 

###

Harry woke suddenly, his spine arching from the sweat-soaked bed beneath him to have the young man panting into the silent darkness of the bedroom around him. Green eyes darted about the room doused in shadows, taking in the curtains that fluttered softly beneath a semi-open window. Despite the cool air, the temperature was stifling. 

Harry drew in a breath and groaned when the heat of it hit the back of his throat and stayed there, a firm grasp of raking hot claws against his windpipe. He whined, low and soft, his hands coming up to dig into the heated skin of his face. 

His pajamas clung to him beneath heavy blankets that he tossed aside with a snarl, his mouth slick with spit that he felt pool against his bottom lip and drool over, hot and tacky against his chin as he panted. 

Each breath drove an errant whimper from him, fingers digging until his nails met blood as he raked them down his arms with a satisfied thrill; the sound somewhere beneath a purr and a startled coo. 

There was a hiss in his ear, a thrumming, uncertain query before Harry cast dazed eyes to look at the snake beside him. 

The little Tom had grown to impossible levels, filling up the entirety of the small room; the snakes' body wrapped fast and tight around his own to pull his nails from his arms. Harry whined up at the beast, thoughts distorted and torn and waspish beneath a temperament that tethered on the edge of pained and angry.   
His body spasmed beneath the massive, scaled coils, a soundless scream tearing his mouth wide as he tried to rip himself free, but could only brace himself within that tight embrace. 

'Pain, little master, pain is familiar.'

The soft, velvety words were hissed gently in his ear, and Harry was too mindless to think on them beyond the quiet tremble of his breath, his insides dissolving to flame beneath the massive length of the snake's body. 

He was going to die. 

He was going to burn away and die. 

He felt the pain lull, a precious second to wonder what on earth was happening to him, before the pain reached new heights and Harry's eyes grew dark, his breath rattling in his throat as he slumped against a smooth, ridged, head suddenly nosing beneath his own. 

'Sleep, little master. I will protect.' 

The words were a balm to his frantic, maddened thoughts, Harry desperately leaning into that scaled head as he cried tears that scalded his cheeks and   
whimpered around spit and drool that choked him. His mind fluttered once, sane enough in a second, blissful lull to throw up a silencing spell that he felt crackle across his bones with the weight of magic it carried. 

Then, Harry began to scream.


	14. 14

James watched the man work, his pale, slender, hands lifting to splay across the intricate markings he had created that hung like crystal shards of light around the wards of the Forbidden Forest. 

"I don't think they're expecting you to find much of anything with the mess of magic that's going on here... But the situation is an... Unusual one."

Xenophilius Lovegood hummed softly in response, the man's wild white hair billowing once down his back as he cast another rune with his wand, his pale eyes unfocused to the scorched and blackened trees around them. He stood with a straight spine, robes a pristine cream and embroidered with his own mix of Celtic runes and symbols. The man was eccentric even for a fae. 

"Your son came from this forest, James?" Xenophilius' voice was soft, a breath of noise on the air as he swiped his wand and dissolved the shining ward he had pulled up, bringing the floating runes down to lay soft against the dry dirt of the forest floor. They simmered for a short second, before dissolving with a spark of red. The fae frowned. "Cannot see any wizard passing through this type of magic and not being worse for wear..."

James winced, lifting a hand to scratch his head. "The boy wasn't in the best of conditions, coming from his own world or coming into ours. We're still using nutrient potions in his breakfast to even get him up to a decent weight."

The man turned to look at him, his face impassive; though their seemed to be a flutter of sadness around his pale blue eyes. "The shoulders of the innocent sometimes bare weight they should not." He turned slowly, casting a glance across the barren earth before his eyes flickered up and something of a smile lit his lips. 

James looked up to watch Sirius traipse towards them across the shallow hill, the woman behind him staring with wide eyes back on the ruins of the once proud Hogwarts castle. There was a tremble to her lips that James could see even at the meager distance, her blue eyes just as wide and bright and pale as her father's, as well as the blonde hair she piled high on her head. 

"Anything, Luna?"

The fae cast him a glance, something in her cheeks softening as she offered him a simple smile. "The castle's magic is as chaotic as it has always been since the battle, dark and angry and weeping. She is furious to have been used for war, tortured that the lives of the children in her care were attacked so brazenly. There is nothing that I know of her today that I did not know yesterday, that I will not know tomorrow."

James frowned, staring down at the girl as she stared back up at him, her smile serene. She was a pretty girl, her pale eyes and the soft, silver runic symbols about her arms showing her for the full-blooded fae she was. She had always been a help in the cases he and Sirius had not been able to crack in the past and powerful if her employment by the Council was anything to go on. "So... Nothing? You can tell me nothing?"

Luna hummed, standing by her father as the man pulled down his sleeves to cover his own dark gold markings. "I can tell you that the magic of Hogwarts is a strange and tangible thing. It is filled with pain and anger and sadness and laughter and joy and love and hate and all the emotions of those who have passed through here. It is something unclear and unwritten and we can only learn as we grow. Sometimes, a spell or ritual is needed for something incredible, sometimes only a wish."

"A wish?" SIrius snorted, reaching out to touch the bare wood of a felled tree and grimacing at the crackle of magic that raced across his fingertips. 

Luna nodded, once, her gaze fond as she took in the decimated forest. "A wish can be a powerful thing... Especially coming from a powerful person, or granted by a powerful forest..."

She turned to James, her lips twisting. "I am sorry I cannot offer you more, James. Had I known Hogwarts in person, had I been taught in her walls rather than home-schooled; perhaps I might know her magic more intimately... As it is, she is a strong and foreboding stranger to my own magic. Still... It would have been nice to know her in all her majesty."

The fae took her father's hand gently, jolting the man from his thoughts as she stared back across the half-formed building and crumbling turrets. James turned to look with her, a strange sort of sorrow in his heart every time he took in the devastation. Hogwarts had been a home, despite all the fighting and war that had tainted the memory in the end. He sighed. 

"I've a feeling you might just have loved it there, Luna."

###

Harry woke with a groan. 

He blinked eyes that seemed stiff and dry, staring groggily at the curtains that swayed gently in a soft breeze. It was passed morning if the light behind those drapes could be guessed at. 

He made to haul himself up, only for his arm to give way beneath him; a muscle spasming in the limb as he gasped and clutched twitching fingers into a clenched fist. 

What the hell?

He drew in a sharp breath, wincing when a turning stretch drew a jolt of pain across his suddenly tender abdomen. Merlin, what way had he slept?

Harry groaned pitifully, stretching out each limb with gritted teeth until the muscles coped enough for him to haul himself into a sitting position. 

His mind was foggy still with sleep, his hair in disarray about his shoulders as he blinked blearily into the bright room, before glancing down at the small snake curled in a tight ball on his pillow. The whisperings of a dream, a nightmare, came to him; dark and uncertain against the edges of his mind. Limbs braced against giant coils, nails dragging against flamed skin... 

Harry glanced down at his perfectly wound-free arms and rolled his eyes. With an imagination like his own, he doubted he would ever be at a loss for strange dreams. He cast a glance at the sheets bundled in a stiff mess at the foot of his bed as another breeze fluttered through the room, a shiver raking down his spine as he realised that he was... Quite naked. 

Harry squinted, glancing over the side of the bed at the rolled up heap of pajamas with a short laugh, before stretching his arms up high and sighing at the crack that sounded in his ears. His neck was tender to the touch, and he growled at the thought of dealing with a crick in it from a night of obviously sleeping like a muppet. 

With a sigh, he stood, and yelped as his legs wobbled beneath him. He slapped out his hands to catch himself on the edge of the dresser, cringing at the sting in his palms. There was a hiss, soft and inquiring and Harry flapped a wrist towards it. "I know, I know, still half asleep. I'm being careful, Tom, don't mind me and go back to sleep."

He threw a look over his shoulder as he shimmied into a pair of soft tracksuit bottoms pulled from the first drawer, smiling at the one-eyed look of derision the snake aimed in his direction. His nightmare flittered back to him briefly and he chuckled; a snake the size of his room indeed. Harry rooted through the clothes until he found a pale blue hooded-pullover, wiggling into the over-sized, soft garment with a sigh of satisfaction. He rubbed his eyes as he hopped awkwardly into a pair of socks, turning his nose up at the shoes at the foot of the bed. 

There was a crackle of magic across his skin that made him pause as he moved through the doorway, his head tilting at the familiar rush as a silencing ward fell with the opening of the door. Had he... 

Had he put up a Silencio in his sleep?

Harry shook his head, more intent on the sudden rumbling of his stomach, than his bizarre bedtime activity as he scuttled across the hall and down the stairs. Each wooden step was met with a grimace as his muscles tightened as though he had overworked them the day before. Each limb was stiff and sore, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. 

What bloody way had he slept? Fighting with the damn blankets?

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Silence met his call, and Harry cleared his throat as he made his way into the kitchen, lifting a hand to card through his hair. He shrugged, turning towards the cupboards with a single-minded goal. He pulled out nearly everything, each item earning a stern glare as he set it down on the counters. Flour, cereal, chocolate, crisps, porridge, bread, beans... 

Harry moved onto the fridge, his face morphing in a scowl as he moved out rows of juice and butter and milk and eggs, discarding them all on the counter-tops with a huff that bordered on a whine. He wanted... Something... 

He turned with a pout, his eyes catching on the bowl of fruit in the centre of the dining table and lighting up. He sat with a grunt, tucking his legs beneath him as he pulled the whole bowl closer and grabbed an apple from within. Harry groaned as he bit into it, the crisp and tart and sweet flavour bursting across his tongue and quenching a thirst he had not realised had even been there. He was grabbing another even as he finished the first, core and all. The juice was sticky on his fingers, and he tugged the sleeves of his hoodie out of the way absently, humming softly when he pulled out a peach. 

He was halfway through the second peach, his other hand holding the only orange in the bowl when the floo by the kitchenette area suddenly flared to life. 

"I'm telling you Severus, something's wrong! He's usually so early to wake and it's gone five and nothing! There's a silencing ward that I can't break through on his door. I can't reach James or Sirius in work and Remus won't be back for another hour at least!"

Harry watched his mother dart her hands about, her back to him as she shook her head and grabbed the arm of the vampire that had flooed through not a second behind her. The pair were gone before Harry could even blink, and he listened to their rushed steps on the stairs as he took another bite of the peach, his other hand placing the orange back in the bowl. 

Was that about him?

The floor flared again and Harry cast it an upturned eyebrow, grinning when Draco stepped out with a scowl already fixed to his face. 

He swiped at a spot of soot on his arm and straightened to take in the room. Red eyes narrowed and dark, seemed to almost skim over him; before Draco glanced back with a quick turn of his head, and took in the sight of Harry half-crouched over the fruit bowl. 

"I thought you were supposed to be trapped in your room?"

Harry grinned, setting down the peach and wiping his fingers on the dish cloth on the chair beside him. "Was I?"

Draco's scowl deepened, his arms folding across his chest as he raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "If what your poor mother was yelling when she flooed to my home is correct, then yes." The blonde began to move forward, his folded arms dropping and his head shaking slowly, "Trapped behind a silencing ward, no movement all day, not even to grab a bite to..."

Draco had frozen, his red eyes flaring wide as his entire body stilled just a few, scant feet from the younger boy. 

Harry tilted his head, frowning. "Draco?"

The Vampire was breathing through his mouth, his shoulders lifting with each inhale; before he lifted his nose in Harry's direction and suddenly gasped. The sound was small, soft and quiet and Harry felt his lips twist in something of a pout. 

"Draco?"

Draco's wings suddenly flared wide, sweeping once in the dining room and drafting a scent with them that had every nerve in Harry's body electrified. It filled his senses, warm and rich and a thousand times stronger than any bare trace of the scent he had ever caught before. The younger boy leaned forward, his lips parting on a sudden breath in as a sound crawled from his throat. The sound was raw, a gentle mewl that he wasn't sure he should even be capable of making; and it drew a snarl from Draco that had the blonde flashing fangs. 

"He's not in his room, do you think he... Oh! Harry!"

Harry blinked, his senses slow with the scent of copper, warm, soft, strong... floating about him still. He watched his mother come back in through the door, her stance startled and her eyes flitting between Draco and Harry with a small furrow between her brow. 

"Draco, love... What is it?"

She made to move, only for Severus to streak past her. The older vampire flared his own wings out with a snap, breaking Draco's view of Harry and drawing a whine from the blonde. 

Harry felt a whine of his own tumble from his lips like something broken, seeking, wanting... His fingers flexed gently, the soft pain dull and sparking against his muddled senses. He jolted when his mother's arms came around him suddenly, his eyes catching hers as she smiled down at him. 

"Hush, baby. You just need a couple of days to settle into your body. Draco will be back again, I promise."

Harry could do little more but sink into the woman's embrace, his nerves alight and twitching as he watched Severus back Draco towards the floo where the blonde took off with a tormented growl. The dark haired vampire cast a look back in his direction, his dark eyes bright and his mouth stretching in a smile.   
"Blessings to your bloodline, Lily," The man bowed his head gently, earning a laugh form the redhead before he, too, disappeared in a swirl of emerald fire. 

Harry shuddered in the sudden chill that raked up his spine, a soft whine leaving his lips unbidden. Lily cooed down at him, pulling him off his own seat and into her lap as if he were no more than a child. At the moment he felt about as lost as one. 

His mother kissed his head softly. "You're something special, you know that, sweetheart?" Harry leaned into her soft scent, his breathing stuttering to a heavy calm as sleep touched against the edges of his mind and his mother's voice murmured softly; happy and proud.

"Who would have thought... An Omega..."


	15. 15

"Ouch!"

Remus laughed under his breath, and Harry scowled at him; grimacing as the man worked his fingers deeper into the trembling muscles in his arms.

"Obviously, it's going to hurt, Harry." Remus shushed him gently, turning his wrist so that he could make sure the potion was lathered into every inch of skin before taking up the boy's other arm and beginning anew. "You went through a Presentation, a development; and a rather late one if I'm being perfectly honest. Not to even mention the fact that you presented as Omega, it's going to take a few days for all of that to settle down again."

Harry gave a startled yelp as the man pulled on a particularly tense muscle, glaring when a snort came from across the dining table.

"Don't bloody well bate him, Sirius." Harry felt a small thrum of triumph as his mother slapped the back of the Auror's head in passing, pointing a stern finger at both him and the stunned looking James beside him. "His instincts and senses are all over the place, and it'd be entirely your fault if he bloody well bites you!"

"He's an Omega, Lils," James Potter said for, perhaps, the seventh time, shaking his head and leaning his elbows on the table with his cup of coffee untouched between them. "There hasn't been an Omega in the Potter line in... Merlin, in centuries! Alphas sure, we make 'em like there's no tomorrow, but an Omega!"

"I am right here, y'know." Harry sulked, turning back to Remus and watching the man roll his eyes as James winced an apology.

"Don't mind them, Harry," the werewolf leaned in to whisper, his smile soft and the potion he was rubbing into Harry's skin dulling the ache that had slowly become a sharp pain as the evening wore on. "He doesn't mean anything bad by it, but having an Omega in the family is a big deal and James is thrilled. He's happy for you, Cub; he's just too big an idiot to express it properly."

Harry grinned, dropping his arms back down to his lap with a sigh. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him in the few hours he had been awake that being an Omega entailed a little bit more than he had originally thought. They had already received several owls bearing 'congratulations' notices and old Wizarding blessings from Narcissa and Severus, Molly and Arthur, Ron and Pansy, Fred and George, and Ginny and Dean. Harry knew that Omegas bore a tiny percentage of the population nowadays, that they were the centre of most households, but he had yet to actually grasp fully what that meant.

He knew from Draco's teachings that Omegas were the kind who... Birthed children and had a protective sort of magic that was incredibly revered. He understood that most families hoped to have an Omega in the bloodline and courting offers came fast for anyone who presented as one. What he did not know, was how to bloody well feel about it all.

It was not a notion that he had entertained for himself, and it had rattled him to his core when Lily had announced him as such. Granted, it was not as big a shock as discovering that he was a Wizard for the first time, or finding out that a tiny portion of Voldemort's soul was inside him. It was not even up there with secret Godfather who wants to kill him and abrupt, unwilling participation in the Triwizard Tournament; but it was... Somewhat alarming to one day wake up with the ability to... Carry a child.

Harry glanced up at Remus, his eyes wide as they watched the man lean back slowly in his chair, the werewolf's golden eyes bright and watching Harry straight back. There was a newness to the man's scent that wrapped around Harry like a blanket. All of their scents had shifted, or at the very least, Harry could smell them properly now. Safe and warm and new in a way that was strange but familiar enough to put him at ease.

Harry glanced over to where his mother was leaning on his father's back, laughing as she pushed him forward and Sirius mussed his hand through James' wild, curly hair. He had always wanted a family, had craved it like nothing else in the world. To think that in the last month he had acquired not only the family that he had believed gone forever from his reach, but the potential to start his own, in a way he would have never thought possible...

Harry felt his breathing quicken, taking in the soft scent of home and comfort around him and feeling it fill him to almost bursting. His throat trembled on a noise, unfamiliar and strange and it spilled from his lips against his will in a gentle purr that had him jolting in his seat. Remus chuckled beside him, reaching out a hand to rub a thumb across Harry's cheek fondly. "It's alright to be happy, you know?"

His own voice was low, a similar, more sedate purr rumbling in the older man's throat and sparking something bright and delighted inside of Harry. "There's a few new things you'll have to learn and get used to, but we'll be with you as you do, Harry. I promise."

The purr trembled in his throat and Harry felt himself nod. A few new things... He could deal with a few new things.

###

He could not deal with a few new things.

Harry snarled as he shook his hand out, lips pulling back over small fangs that had absolutely no business being in his mouth and had cut his bloody tongue the first time they had snapped down the second morning, when Sirius had snatched a mango from him. They were an old Omega trait, his mother had said as she and Remus worked to calm him down, some Omegas inherited them after Presentation, some did not.

There were features known as throwback traits that were not evident in every Omega born in modern times. Fangs were one. Claws were another, though Harry was beyond thankful that he did not have that particular annoyance to deal with. He liked his nails short and trimmed, not sticking in his cloths and slicing up his scalp every time he used shampoo. He had shuddered at the mere thought of it. Like the fangs and claws, there could be other physical attributes that Remus had ghosted over, shrugging them off as unimportant for the moment. Just as there were physical changes to deal with, however, there were other, internal traits that he had not been expecting.

Like a sudden flair in a wizard's innate magic.

Harry cursed as he clenched his sparking fingers, waving off the tremor of raw magic that ran through them as he tried to put up another shield. There was a thrum of energy, erratic and bouncing, to his magic that had never been there before. It coursed through him like something alive, narrowing with an almost brazen streak each time he used his wand, and all but exploding out of him each time he cast wandless.

His first shield had taken James an hour to take down, much to the amusement of Sirius, as it had been poor Remus that Harry had trapped in a warded bubble. He winced, he had only meant to half-shield the man from the spilled coffee pot.

Now he was with his mother in the living room, the furniture pushed back to the walls and shrunken down as Harry tried to channel his newly charged magic through his fingertips in a way that did not bring Grimmauld place down around their ears. He growled low as he tried to condense the next shield, his magic sparking against his hand again as the shield popped out of existence and a spike of pain lanced up his arm.

"Don't try to block it off, love!" Lily grinned over at him, her wand raised. "Let it run through you, it's instinct! You're focusing too hard on making it small and harmless, but your magic is more like a massive shield! Let it be big."

"Let it be big, she says." Harry glanced down at where Tom was wrapped around his neck, the snake tasting the static of magic in the air and hissing in delight. "Yes, yes, I know you approve, but I can't bloody well try and tear my arm off trying to channel that in the one go, can I?"

Tom arched an eyebrow up at him and Harry arched one back, drawing a sigh from Lily. The redheaded witch tousled Harry's hair as she moved to pass him, her smile wide. "You'll get it, love. Don't think so much on it."

Harry hummed as he followed her, his brow drawing down in a scowl. Magic had never been something he could just 'not think so much about', it was a hard learned skill that he was, despite his failings in certain things, quite proud of. He flexed his fingers as he followed Lily into the kitchen, green eyes following the spark of wild magic that danced like smoke and light around his fingertips.

It was so very real in a way it had never seemed before. Of course Harry knew his magic was real, he knew he could wield a wand well and he knew it thrummed beneath his skin as naturally as his heart beat. But, he had never in his life expected to feel it in such a way. He had never thought that he would ever need his wand for only the more complex, intricate spells. Even when he had begun to learn to throw up shields and deflect the curses cast so often in his direction, even then; his magic had felt a degree sluggish... Timid...

Harry glanced up when the Floo suddenly flared to life, his green eyes pinned to those flames as Severus stepped out and cast a curious glance in his direction. The man nodded, his lip twitching in something of a smile. "'Arry."

"Is Draco with you?"

The vampire snorted, his small smile morphing into a full grin as he strode forward and landed a bag filled with clinking, glass bottles on the dining room table. "Non. Nor shall 'e be for the next few days. Use zis time wisely, learn of yourself."

Harry snorted as he folded himself into the seat beside his mother, craning his neck to see the vials she was pulling out and inspecting with pursed lips. "I've known myself for eighteen years, Severus, I'd be alarmed if something strange didn't happen to me. This is just another weird Harry Potter thing to add to an ever-growing list, I promise you. What're those?"

Lily shook a bright pink potion at him with a grin, chuckling when Severus flashed him a smile filled with fang. "Zat one, is to be taken once every four months, to regulate your cycle."

His what?

Harry watched the redhead pluck out another, this one a dark green that looked like someone had dunked it in slime, he grimaced.

"Zat one, to be taken once a year, to prevent cramps outside of ze cycle. A common potion for young Omegas, in time you will not need it at all."

Cramps? Harry glanced up at Severus as the man inspected a mustard yellow coloured vial. As in muscle cramps?

"Zis one, only ze once in your lifetime. It will settle any pain remaining in your little bones."

Harry clenched his fingers softly, taking note of the gentle tremor. Though it had been a few days since his apparent nightmare that was half a nightmare, but not quite a nightmare, but was actually his Presentation... His muscles still ached. He reached for that one, only for Severus to pass him a thin glass bottle of something that looked suspiciously like water.

"Zis first." The man arched an eyebrow at Harry's look, stubbornly silent despite Lily's chuckling as Harry gave in with a sigh and swigged the contents back. He swallowed the bitter taste down with barely a grimace, clenching his teeth on the sharp, peppermint aftertaste.

"What does that one do, then?"

Severus took the empty vial back, dropping it into the bag he had brought with him before handing Harry the yellow, pain reliever. "Birth control."

Harry choked.

###

_'You were told to rest.'_

_'And you were told to not shed on Mum's bed, and you did it anyway, so who're you to talk?'_

Tom all but chuckled from his spot draped across the kitchen counter, his body long and sleek beneath the dimmed yellow light and his eyes dark with humour. The snake was definitely getting bigger, little by little, and Harry thought the yellow plume atop his head that spiked up when he was curious, was beyond adorable. Whatever breed of snake he had stumbled upon, he could say with certainty now that it was not 'common variety garden'.

_'What if he harms you?'_

Harry startled, lip drawing back in a delicate growl as he threw an annoyed look at his friend. The house was entirely silent, save for their conversation. His parents and Godparents were no doubt fast asleep, the sky outside incredibly dark. _'Draco would never hurt me, Tom!'_

Harry was standing in front of the fireplace, a handful of Floo powder clutched in one hand as he debated with the snake. He doubted that the Vampire could harm anyone, let alone someone that he actually cared for. There was something about this Draco Malfoy that was incredibly kind, indisputably friendly... And Harry missed him.

There was an ache in his stomach that he had found himself wallowing over with each day spent without the blonde beside him. As comfortable as Lily and Remus continued to make him feel in his new skin, and as much as James and Sirius drew out his magic and coaxed him into trying new things; there was something inside of Harry poking and clawing at the tender memories of the blonde.

_'I won't even be gone for long, I'll just pop over and have a quick chat and I'll be back here before the lot of them even wake up!'_

The look of disbelief that Tom threw him must have been exceptionally difficult for the creature to make, but he achieved it all the same. Harry rolled his eyes. He was a bloody grown up, anyway! He had fought wars, survived in woods, chased away monsters and faced down creatures he could not have begun to dream up! He was Harry bloody Potter!

He scowled, stepping into the open chimney breast in the simple grey joggers he had thrown on only minutes ago and the pale blue fleece that he rolled the sleeves of up, with a determined glint in his eye. He shot one dark look at Tom, a warning not to wake his parents, before throwing down the powder and speaking a password Draco had taught him only days before.

Harry tripped as he was propelled through the sudden flames and smoke and into the Malfoy Manor library.

He clutched a hand to his mouth to stifle a cough and patted down his remarkably clean clothes with a grin. The password had been a gift, a means of accessing the manor books and all the history Harry was so eager to learn without having to walk through the main foyer.

A thoughtful gift.

But then, Draco was incredibly thoughtful.

Harry felt a purr build softly in his chest, the noise soft and gentle in the quiet of the manor as he walked through the open doorway and into the hallway filled with doors.

Finding Draco, Harry realised with a surprised smile, was infinitely easier than he had been dreading. The blonde's scent was as familiar as his family's, warm and sleek and strong and full of that rich, copper almost-taste that had Harry's eyes fluttering and his heart spiking in his chest. He followed it like a golden thread, winding his way down the massive, dark hallways in the soft slippers he had slid on at home. The carpet was lush and thick, the walls cool and soft beneath his fingertips as he reached out a hand to skim across it.

Draco's scent was headier than he remembered, filling his senses in a way the other's back at home had not. His neck prickled, hot and irritated and Harry swiped at it with a hazy frown, rubbing at the thin layer of slick, not-quite-wet, scent that burned hot against his fingers. Was he sweating?

He was feeling a tad... Warm...

Harry made his way across a landing, staring up at the impressive windows that let the light of the moon spill through and cast shadows across the carpet. He tugged at the collar of his fleece, whining softly when the material rubbed harsh against the sides of neck and his wrists, where the sleeves had fallen back down.

His steps carried him ever closer to a door at the end of the next hallway, quickening but making no sound against the thick rug.

Draco was in there.

The blonde's scent was thick and wrapped around Harry's thoughts like a thread, tight and binding and constricting every, little fragment down to one thing...

Harry tapped his fingers lightly against the wood, a thrill of something wild and crackling going down his spine as he heard the sound of movement on the other side. The telltale shift of material, a groan of confusion, grumbled, tired steps growing closer and closer until the handle in Harry's own grasp was pushing down and the door was opened and Harry found himself staring up into dark, red eyes that snapped wide at the sight of him.

The blonde did not breathe a word, seemed almost to be holding his breath; if Harry could guess. His posture was rigid, his shoulders tense and his blonde hair messy and tousled about his shoulders. His black wings had spread wide behind him, blocking out the light of the moon and shrouding Harry in sudden darkness.

The younger boy tilted his head to the side, green eyes wide and glinting as he took in the Vampire. He made a sound, an inquisitive. little chirrup of a noise that Draco almost immediately drowned out with a rumbling purr of his own. It was a sound that turned Harry's insides to molten liquid, his lips parting on a pant of a whine as something warm and wet and slick suddenly slid between his thighs.

His thoughts grew murky, his eyes lidding as he snapped his head to one side to bare the white column of his neck. Draco snarled, his wings pulling up sharp and his eyes flashing and Harry could only whimper in response, his legs suddenly weakening. He would have fallen to the plush carpet, had Draco not whipped an arm around his waist and dragged him close.

The Vampire nosed along his bared throat with ragged breaths, hot and full of the scent of copper and tea. There was a press of sharp teeth against something tender and aching on his neck, not breaking skin but a gentle threat all the same. Harry purred into it, leaning against Draco's weight as the blonde shook his head and pressed a kiss to the spot instead.

A sharp, bark of laughter left the blonde and Harry grinned up at him lazily, tucking his head beneath Draco's chin.

"You're a bloody trouble-maker, Potter, do you know that?"


	16. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did just want to say that I do really appreciate your comments. I read them all and I thank you for them. Any small show of appreciation, commenting, bookmarking, kudos; it is incredibly rewarding and I hope you all continue to enjoy this story. Thank you.

Draco ran a hand through black hair that was almost silken to the touch, the ends curling against Harry's shoulders. His pale skin was flushed with heat beneath the light of the dawning sun that had begun to peek through the slant of space between the curtains. His breathing was soft, even as he slept, his head pillowed on Draco's chest where the older man was leaning back against the library couch, a blanket thrown over the both of them that Harry had happily stolen the majority of. 

The Omega had fallen asleep almost as soon as Draco had found him standing in his doorway like some tormenting dream. He had dropped into a happy, little slumber with his nose buried in the crook of Draco's neck, and the blonde had not had the heart to part from him. As impeccable as his control was, though, it was not something he wanted to test with Harry's pre-Heat scent flooding his senses. 

He had carried the youth from his room back to the library he had obviously floo'd in from, with the intention of bringing him back home. 

But he had not been able to.

Every well-trained, well commanded instinct inside of him had abhorred the thought of leaving the sweet, little thing in his arms. He had battled with his own thoughts as fiercely as he had battled with Harry's scent beneath his nose. The Omega was like nothing he had ever scented before, a warm, safe pastry-baked aroma that wrapped so delicately around the treacle-sticky-sweet scent of the boy's upcoming Heat. 

His first Heat. 

Harry smelled incredible, Draco inhaled it even now as he watched the youth, as he had watched him for hours. His scent was soft and sweet and held the barest streak of something wild and crisp, like the night sky before a bolt of lightning. His magic was tangible to Draco in a way the man had only known it to be in a handful of people; namely the late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and a few well respected names of the Council. 

His Harry was powerful. Draco preened at the thought, his lips tilting in a soft smile as Harry scowled in his sleep and shifted closer, lips parting on a small sigh. Powerful and so very, very sweet. The blonde dragged a hand through those curls again, his eyes fluttering as he breathed in another lungful of scent. There was a part of him that wanted to ravage the boy. 

Like a thought stalking towards the forefront of his mind, the idea that he might take Harry in the hours he had held him pliant and soft against his body. The carnal want to hold that pale throat down with one hand and spread thighs that he knew, from the damp of Harry's trousers, were coated in slick. He wanted him in a far fiercer way than he had wanted many things in life. Some things he had worked for, some were gifted to him; but there had never been a thing in his life that he had longed for with as much intensity as he longed to claim Harry as his own. Draco swallowed down a growl, leaning his head back to take a breath of the fresh air that floated through the window he had opened the night before. 

Harry deserved better, deserved something of a courtship. 

The youth's first Heat would be nothing the boy could not handle alone, even if the thought clenched Draco's jaw and sat unpleasantly in his stomach. The first Heat was always one that occurred softly, gently, a coaxing of what was to come that would keep Harry in his senses and aware. It would last hours at the most, and the youth had his mother and Remus to speak with, had he any questions. It was something demanding but manageable, a final step of the presentation that would make Harry a full Omega. 

Draco could do little to help the purr that escaped him, the sound tumbling from his throat and drawing an answering purr from Harry despite his sleeping state. As perfect as Harry had been to him with his bright smile and sharp humour, with his protective streak and his fragile desire for safety and home... As much in inescapable, incomprehensible love with the boy as Draco was beginning to feel; that Harry become an Omega was a thing he had not dared even hope for. 

Draco glanced up when the library door opened suddenly, his body tensing and his eyes darkening before he took in the slightly stunned face of his Sire. Severus raised an eyebrow at him, the man's own gaze locked on the little Omega still sleeping in Draco's grasp. He glanced from Harry to Draco and back again, casting a look at the Floo with a slant to his mouth that told Draco the man was amused but trying not to be. 

"Draco..." 

The blonde winced at the disappointed tone, his head canting to one side to show deference to the man who had raised him. "I promise I did not harm him, Sire... He came to me last night." 

Severus clucked a sound with his tongue, his lip twitching briefly as he strode forward slowly, mindful of the wings that Draco held spread around them both. Harry's scent was untouched, from what Severus could tell, and he felt his heart soften for the apprehensive look Draco was directing up to him. He crooned a sound, his lips softening to a smile. 

"Of course you 'ave not hurt 'im, mon étoile. You are a sweet, incredible Alpha and your control 'as never ceased to amaze me." 

Draco's shoulders sagged, his face softening as he glanced down at the smaller man in his arms. Harry was sleeping still, soundly enough that Draco thought he might sleep through his Heat entirely. He smiled. "I could never hurt him..."

Severus chuckled, tilting his head to one side to watch his besotted Heir. "Non... I believe you could not." The man beckoned Draco forward when the blonde next glanced up, his smile bright. "Let us get 'im to ze guest bedroom zen, oui? I will ask Narcissa to send for Lily."

Draco grinned, gathering Harry close as he made to stand up, and purring when the younger man scowled in his sleep. 

###

Harry woke up in a nest of blankets that smelled of family and Draco. 

His nose was sniffling through the mix of fabrics before he had even fully woken, taking in the soft, familiar scent of his own bedding and the new, lush feel of the blankets and pillows that smelled incredibly of Draco. 

He blinked open eyes stilll hazy with sleep to a room that was unfamiliar and dark. 

It probably should have panicked him, was an errant thought that flittered through his mind, before dissolving into dust when Harry burrowed himself further in the twisted, soft nest and the plushest mattress he had ever felt in his life. He might have been panicked had this happened in any other circumstance; but Harry felt safe and content, and his instincts were lazy and happy as he sighed into the dark room. 

He could smell his family in the blankets someone had brought from Grimmauld and draped across him, could even smell Severus and Narcissa in the room around him, faded though they may have been. Draco's scent was directly beneath him in the layers of pillows and sheets that Harry must have bunched towards the edges of the mattress in his sleep. It was the safest he had ever felt, wrapped in blankets that flushed his skin and heated his cheeks and in a room he did not recognise. 

Harry burrowed deeper, purring deep within his chest as he battled with the tracksuit bottoms wrapped around his legs until he had kicked them off and pushed them out of the nest he seemed to be creating. His fleece was long gone, Harry groaned as he rubbed his front against a particularly soft blanket, his thoughts jolting with the flicker of arousal that licked down his spine. 

That was new. 

Harry pressed against the fabric slowly, biting down on his arm with a whimper when the same spark lit his senses. His thighs were slick when he pressed them together and Harry felt his head tip back on a gentle groan, his fingers skimming down his over-sensitive stomach. 

He was not so much a prude that he was unfamiliar to self-pleasure. Harry had touched himself before, on the very, very brief occasion where his hormones had gotten the better of him and the dorm-room had been blessedly free of every other teenage boy that made such an act impossible for the most part. It had never before felt like this, though. 

Harry gasped, fingers trailing over his length before jerking back as the barest touch had him spilling across his own stomach. He panted into the darkness around him, thighs trembling as the slick, thin, translucent release only added to the mess of wetness that seemed to be steadily growing between his thighs. 

Merlin, maybe he should have listened better when Remus had attempted to tell him what the rest of his Presentation would entail. Harry skimmed a hand slowly through the substance that was... leaking from him, holding his fingers up in the non-existent light to catch the barest glimpse of something clear and glistening. 

Slick. 

Isn't that what Remus had called it? Natural lubrication... Produced by the body... Produced by... Him. 

Bloody Hell. 

Harry's hand shook as he slid it down further than he had in the past, his stomach clenching on the sparks of arousal that were flushing his skin a pale pink. His fingers trailed gently down between his thighs, his lips clamping down on a desperate whimper as the digits slipped into the incredibly warm slick that was still seeping out of him. His middle finger slid along slowly, drawing a startled yelp from his throat when he nearly slipped inside the tender, swollen opening of his back passage. 

Harry felt a sound leave his throat, high and thin and needy as his eyes clouded and he dipped the finger low again, barely catching on the rim of his opening and lighting a fire low in his belly that threatened to burn him alive. The heat was incredible, hot as a furnace as he clamped down on the barest of intrusions. Still more slick leaked out of him and Harry's breaths came fast and sharp as each new spurt forced his finger further in, sliding against inner walls plump with warmth and so very, very sensitive. 

The second climax took him as unawares as the first; a thrill of a sound leaving him that he quickly covered by pushing his face into the pillows beside him. His entire body shook, taut as a pulled string and his nerves alight as he coated his stomach again. Harry gasped, sliding his hand free and curling up around the pillow that smelled most of Draco. His stomach clenched with the heady musk, a pitiful moan leaving his lips as he felt his hips begin to rut against the material slowly, gently. 

That scent was going to drive him out of his mind. 

###

When Harry woke again, it was to a blessed stillness to his body and the distinct lack of a need to rut against every available surface. 

He heaved a sigh as he peered blearily around the room. It was brighter now, partially lit with the glow of morning that shone from behind pale, white curtains. His nest was an absolute mess of soiled blankets and even wetter pillows and Harry was mortified as he pushed them to one side in a feeble attempt to hide the evidence of the last... 

How many days? Hours? He groaned as he sat, his body loose and warm and every inch of him begrudging the fact that he was pulling away from the lovely, soft bed that smelled predominantly of Draco and Harry and... Sex. 

Harry snorted, purring despite his own embarrassment. As mortifying as it was to realise that he had spent an unknown amount of time bedding himself in a strange room, in a strange house; Harry could hardly feel anything beyond the safe, happy, comfortable lull that his senses were now in. His body no longer hurt, his limbs free of aches and pains and his fangs were small enough in his mouth to not nick against his tongue. 

Harry stood from the mess of blankets, glancing about the fancy looking room and finding his wand on the locker beside the bed. The bedroom was ornate enough that he knew he had to be in Malfoy Manor. If the snippets of memory flashing back to him were any indication, then he was most definitely in for an earful from his mother about Flooing off in the middle of the night. 

Still, as welcomed here as he may have been, Harry felt a twinge of guilt when he pulled out drawers to find Draco's own clothes sitting neat and tidy. The blonde had obviously left Harry in his bedroom, and the thought was a ridiculously warm one. He only hoped the blonde had had an alright night sleeping in a guest room as opposed to his own. He cast a quick cleaning charm on himself, grimacing as his sensitive skin shivered and ran a hand through his hair to try and assemble it into some form of a shape. His fingers were quick and deft as he rooted through the pristine clothes, pulling out a pair of black lounge-pants that he had to roll the ends up on at least four times before they somewhat fit. 

He found socks next, much to his delight and pulled on the pair before opening the doors of the massive wardrobe set into the wall of one side of the room. It was lined with clothes, formal and informal, but Harry caught them all between his fingers before settling on a dark green hooded fleece that felt incredibly soft to the touch. Fully dressed, he made his way out of the room, casting a glance at the pile of blankets and pillows on the bed with a wince. He would need to find a house elf and very politely ask them to take care of that before Draco came anywhere near his room again. 

The manor was quiet, windows opened wide to let in a soft, cool breeze that had Harry crossing his arms in the over-sized pullover. He made his way down a back stairwell that Draco had shown him led directly to the dining room, his steps whisper soft on the floor. 

The dining room was set up for lunch, filled with trays of food and pots of tea and Harry felt his stomach give a firm protest as he passed it to make his way towards the main doors. He could eat in just a minute... He just need to find... Someone. 

His steps quickened, nose perking in the air as a familiar scent came to him and a rumbling purr dropped from his lips. The door to the dining room opened and Draco stepped through to dart a look in. The blonde laughed when he spotted him, his smile wide and his wings flaring behind him. 

"I thought I heard you."

Harry paused, for a fraction of a time, unsure; until Draco spread his arms wide and beckoned him forward. The blonde grinned down at him. "Come on, then."

Harry found himself pressed against Draco's chest, his purr an explosion of sound from inside his chest as he tucked his nose into the vampire's neck and huffed a breath. "Missed you."

Draco crooned, his arms tightening around Harry and his wings bowing forward to offer them some semblance of privacy. 

"My Harry."


	17. Chapter 17

Draco's scent was palpable. 

Harry could almost taste it, dark and heady and warm where he pushed his nose into the crook of the man's neck, his feet arching off the floor to press himself closer. 

His breath huffed hot and suddenly fast against that length of pale skin, his fingers grasping tight in the blonde's black silk shirt. 

There was a sound building in his throat, spilling from his lips in a desperate whine that had Draco suddenly stilling in his grasp. The Vampire growled a purr  
against the crown of his head, his arms tight around Harry's waist as his wings stretched around them; a dark cocoon. 

"Missed you..."

The whimper was soft, barely breathed in the warm darkness between them and Draco met it with a sudden, firm kiss. 

His mouth slanted down over Harry's, hot and slick and Harry parted his lips with a gasp. He groaned as Draco's tongue slid inside, his legs buckling until the blonde was the only thing holding him up. Draco's arms wrapped tight around him, his teeth nipping at Harry's lip. 

There was a purr vibrating through the man's chest, deep and slow and rubbing against Harry's senses in a way nothing in his life ever had before. He panted into it; a small, broken whine leaving him as he found himself suddenly lifted, his backside hitting the flat edge of the dining room table. Draco growled down at him and Harry could do little but preen up at the blonde, his lips stretching in a lazy smile that caught the tips of his small fangs. Red eyes widened, Draco's breath huffing on a sigh as he trailed gentle fingers along Harry's chin, tipping the younger boy's face up. 

His thumb caught briefly on one small fang, the Vampire forcing Harry's lips to part as he rubbed the digit against the pointed edge. He slid his thumb against a plump, bottom lip, eyes lidding as he pushed the digit further into Harry's mouth and rubbed the boy's tongue slowly. 

"Look at you..." Draco's voice was hushed, dark and low with the growl that threatened to spill from his throat as Harry stared up at him with hazy green eyes and sealed his lips around Draco's thumb with a content, little purr. The Vampire bared his own fangs in a hiss that had Harry trembling against him, his mouth opening on a desperate little pant. 

"So pretty, Harry... You're such a good boy..." 

The words had a croon spilling from Harry, his thoughts chaotic but vicious in their intent. He wanted Draco. 

He had never in his life wanted anything more than he wanted Draco. 

Draco was his. 

"One usually seats themselves at the dining table, Dragon, not on top of it." 

Harry had the barest of seconds to press his lips together on a sudden squeak as Draco winced, his body frozen as the sound of Narcissa's wry voice met them through the curtain of the Vampire's wings. 

"You can remain frozen all you like, dear, I can still see you." 

Harry broke on a snort of laughter, his thoughts bright and amused despite Draco's scent that still clung to him like a physical thing, warm and soft. The blonde heaved a wrought upon sigh, his wings drawing back slowly and the light of the dining room clearing whatever notions were still half-clouding Harry's head.  
Narcissa was closer than he had thought, and he jolted when he was met with a set of familiar grey-blue eyes looking down at him. The woman's mouth was twisted, as though she wanted nothing more than to laugh. Still, she offered Harry a soft smile and pushed her son aside with waving hands to pull the younger boy into a hug. 

It was not a formal gesture, but a moment of weakness that the woman had offered both herself and Harry. He saw the gesture for what it was and grasped onto her tightly as he slid from the table-top to land on his own two feet. Narcissa pulled back to cup his cheeks gently, her expression open as it so often was not.  
"Congratulations of your Presentation, Harry, dear, and if I may be so bold as to assume; welcome to the family." 

Harry ignored Draco's eye roll and hissed 'Mother!', his smile wide as he took in the mild, cool scent that was Narcissa. Inoffensive, light and gentle as a summer breeze, it was lovely. 

"Thank you, Narcissa." 

"I haven't even formally asked him to fully bond yet..." 

Again, Harry ignored Draco in favour of taking Narcissa's arm as she offered it, casting a grin at the other man when Draco walked beside them with a shake of his head and a small smile. Narcissa scoffed, her spine straightening as they made their way from the dining room and through the back parlour. 

"As if you need ask, Draco. Harry's made his choice fine and clear." Harry snorted at the dry look Draco sent their way, Narcissa ignoring her son in favour of smiling down at the younger boy. "I thought, with it being so lovely out, we might take lunch in the garden instead."

Harry was led through a sudden open archway, the walls fading from concrete and marble to glass and wire as they stepped through to a conservatory that spilled sunlight and blue skies into a patio filled with soft couches, expensive-looking armchairs and tables filled with food. 

What caught Harry's attention, however, was not the spread of food or the fantastic gardens laid out beyond the open glass doors; but the group of people that were milling about the open space. 

For a second, Harry froze, his eyes flaring wide; before one of the people turned and Harry met the smiling face of Fred Weasley. George was beside him, a full plate of sandwiches in his grasp that the other twin was trying to steal from. Ron and Pansy were to his right, Pansy pointing a stern finger at an immaculate white peacock that was hissing back at her and Ron glaring at the creature from behind his partner's back. 

There were others, Harry could see; Ginny and Dean chatting in one corner with Molly and Arthur, and Sirius and Remus lounging on one of the couches. Lily was first to spot him, her smile wide and breathtaking as she leapt away from where James had been about to hand her a cup of tea and raced towards him. 

Harry felt his smile break as he lifted his arms for the hug she pulled him into, her laugh loud and happy in his ear. She cooed back at him when he purred in the  
embrace, looking him over, before nodding and flicking the tip of his nose. 

"That's for running off, brat," she grinned down at him, running her fingers through his hair and tutting gently. "But so long as you're happy, then that's all that matters."

Harry glanced around at his family and friends, before tilting his head back and meeting Draco's ruby gaze with a smile, something swooping low and warm in his stomach. 

"I am." 

###

"Where's Severus?"

Harry was sitting cross-legged on the grass, throwing crumbs towards two albino peacocks that cooed back at him and ruffled their features with the breeze.  
Draco eyed the birds from where he sat perched on a nearby stool, his back against the table behind him and his face turned towards the sky. Lily, Molly and Narcissa sat not far from the both of them, and Harry was still attempting to wrap his head around the sight of his mother, and his adoptive mother, laughing and smiling with the pureblood blonde. 

"His presence was requested by the Council," Draco closed his eyes, his chest lifting gently as he took in a breath. "He will meet us at the Hunting festival." 

There was a groan beside Harry and he turned to find George grimacing where the redhead was sprawled across the grass, Fred chuckling where he was lounged back against a cushion beside him. 

"The bloody festival."

"You don't like it?"

George cast a narrowed gaze at Harry, his chest heaving with a sigh. "I like it well enough, but I could bloody well do without all the propositions."

Ron perked up from where he was half-asleep in the nearest padded chair, his fingers dragging through Pansy's hair where the woman was lounging with her  
back against his long legs, a cushion beneath her own backside. "You got more last year than before, actually; thought Mum might wee herself in excitement before she saw the look on your face."

Fred made a sound like an 'aww', his foot stretching out to kick George in the side with a snort. "And he sent a 'no' to each and every one of them." The twin glanced at Harry with a grin, taking in the boy's confusion. "What George dislikes about the festival, Harry, is that with being the oldest, un-betrothed Weasley boy, and an Alpha to boot, and Remus Lupin's oldest Heir... It comes with a few perks that certain people would happily bond their kids away for."

"And then some." Pansy snorted, her lips curving in a smile that she aimed at Draco who rolled his eyes at her. 

Harry frowned, glancing between the pair of them. "Oldest? What about Bill, or Charlie? Or Percy?" 

Fred winced and George cast Ron's sudden scowl a weary look. "We haven't heard from Percy in a fair amount of time; not since he mated Penelope and the pair danced into the sunset together. Wanker forgets he's got another bloody family most of the time." 

"And Bill and Charlie have been bonded to their partners for years, full on love at first sight." Fred sighed, doe-eyed and fluttering his hands about his face, "No way anybody's getting in between that amount of sickly, sweet romance."

Harry hummed, glancing back at George with a grin. "And Ron's with Pansy," he pointed at the lovestruck pair as they grinned at one another, before glancing over at where the youngest Weasley was playing an outdoor game with a laughing Dean Thomas. "Ginny's with Dean... You two are the only ones left." 

Fred clutched at his heart as though wounded, his expression shocked. "Say it like it is, Harry, why don't you?"

Harry barked a laugh, drawing a chuckle from Draco beside him and a howl of laughter from Ron. "Well, if you're not ready to bond, then don't. You can't be forced, right? And if you don't want to be with some stranger that's after your name, then tell them to sod off." 

George grinned as Fred flopped beside him on the grass. "It's not as though we're opposed to bonding..."

"Quite the opposite really," Fred continued, grinning "we're all for it. It's just..."

"Well, we can't bond one of us off and not the other, can we?" 

The twins glanced at each other, before looking back at Harry and shrugging in tandem. "We're kind of a package deal." 

George moved to sit up, his face bright and open. "I won't bond with someone I might have an interest in, if they couldn't understand that I've already got a different kind of bond with Fred. We're a duo, y'know? And it'd take a pretty special person to recognise that and accept either one of us anyway; knowing that they'd never have us completely to themselves."

Fred sighed, his face suddenly serious. "And still, I reckon you should just give courting a chance. Let yourself be happy, George." His mouth twisted in a grimace, as he lay himself back down on the grass and frowned up at the sky. "I'm beginning to think that there's no one out there who would get what kind of bond we have..."

It was an expression Harry had never seen on Fred Weasley before, and it unsettled him. His memories flickered with all the times he had seen the man happy, dancing with a certain dark skinned beauty at a ball... Eyes bright and smile brighter as he handed Angelina's hand to his brother and pulled a protesting Lee Jordan to the dance floor instead... 

"There are people out there who get you and George, though," Harry frowned, tossing the last of his crumbs aside to the birds. He knew there was, he had seen it himself... And the fact that this Fred and George had grown up without the incredible friends they had had in his universe was just tragic. "I'm sure you'll meet them... I just don't know how, yet." 

Pansy cooed, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair and break the weird sort of tension his words had created. "You're such a romantic, Harry, who would have thought it?" 

George chuckled as Harry scowled and pushed her hands away. "Whatever about me and Fred, I'll be looking forward to seeing the amount of courting letters your poor father gets buried under as soon as people start laying their eyes on you, Harry." 

Draco growled, the sound snappish and harsh as George broke into laughter and bared his teeth right back. The blonde's lip curled, his eyes narrowed. "They can send the moon and the sun to try and grab his attention, they won't have it."

Harry felt his back straighten as those narrow, red eyes landed on him. A spark lit across his skin and he felt a shiver dance up his spine. Draco was right. 

Whether or not they bonded before the festival or after; as much as Harry believed that Draco was his... 

He knew he belonged, irrevocably, to Draco. 

###

The impromptu party was dwindling down with the sudden Twilight. 

The skies were getting darker, people heading home with smiles and hugs and sound goodbyes. There was only a handful left in the manor conservatory, with his mother and father sat on a plush couch between Sirius and Remus. A content Narcissa sipped tea in front of the fire she had cast into the stove with the chill of nighttime approaching. 

Harry and Draco had just said goodbye to the twins, had walked the pair to the nearest floo, with Harry laughing promises that he would find them someone special so long as the pair worked on their abysmal dating skills. He was chuckling still at their identical, irate expressions as the green flames swept them away and Harry found himself suddenly pressed against a cold wall, the candle-lit room around them vanishing beneath a curtain of black, silken wings. 

He had little time to do more than gasp as Draco's mouth found his, tongue slick and sure as it slid between his lips and pressed so softly against his own tongue. The Vampire's hands were on his hips, lifting him until his feet left the floor and the hard press of Draco's groin against his own kept him from sliding down the wall. 

Harry whimpered, wrapping his legs tight around the man's hips and delighting in the pleased growl that trembled from Draco's throat. 

The man was hot to the touch, skin soft and warm where Harry grasped his forearms. His mouth was demanding, slick and full of that incredible scent that sent Harry's mind reeling and his instincts turning to putty; safe and happy. He was strong, holding Harry's weight as though it were nothing, his hips pinning the younger boy against the stone wall that was fast heating up behind them. 

One hand left Harry's hip, pale fingers toying with the edge of the fleece he wore and pulling it out until a draft made its way up and Harry shivered. There was a purr, soft and muted, before those fingers slid gently along the exposed skin of his stomach, deft and smooth as they trailed a heated pattern slowly up his side. Harry found himself suddenly tensed, his thighs clenching down on the Vampire's hips and a soft whine leaving him as Draco trailed slowly upwards. 

A thumb slid along his nipple, drawing a startled gasp from the brunette as Harry arched suddenly, his lips breaking from Draco to sound a desperate, little keen into the enclosed space around them. 

Draco hummed back at him, his lips tilting in a smile that Harry could just make out beneath the haze that clouded his half-lidded eyes. "Poor, little lion... So sensitive... So sweet..."

The man's thumb caressed his nipple again, pressing firm against the small, nub, before rubbing against it hard. Harry's eyes nearly rolled back with the spark of sensation that flickered across his chest, his mouth dropping open on a breathless intake of air as Draco's other hand crawled up his other side and his fingers pinched the second nipple with a gentle, little twist. 

Harry shrieked, the sound piercing in the small space, unnatural almost. It was a sound he had never made before, high and needy and full of something... 

Draco's fangs bared in a sinister smile, one hand catching the excess of soft material to pull it up and over Harry's head, flinging it to the floor as though the expensive looking garment cost nothing. Harry flushed, glancing away and baring his neck as those pale hands slid up his skinny sides slowly, tracing the scars that littered one half of his ribcage with a sort of reverence. 

"I forget." Draco spoke softly, his words gentle even though his voice had grown dark. Harry glanced at him, watching as the man frowned at the scars that had been healed smooth with dittany, but were still a vivid, irreversible pink where they trailed across his pale skin. The man smoothed a hand across the worst of them, tracking one up to where it ended just below Harry's collarbone. 

"I forget, just how much you've been through... Just how much you have seen in your short life..." Red eyes met his and Harry felt himself flush scarlet with the intensity of that stare, full of admiration and awe. Draco's purr was raw as it rolled through him, drawing the smallest of groans from between his lips. 

"You are so strong..." 

Those thumbs rubbed over his nipples again, Harry gasping as Draco's hands cupped his sides and his fingers dug against the skin. The Vampire stared at him, eyes dark and lidded, before Harry was hoisted up a fraction and the man's mouth was suddenly on his chest. 

Lips latched, warm and wet, to one nipple and Draco sucked the tender skin between his teeth, biting down gently and laving his tongue across the throb the bite left behind. Harry thought he might collapse against the tepid wall, his eyes rolling back and his lips parting on a desperate, keening whimper that he could not seem to halt. 

It spilled out of him, high and soft and sweet as those lips latched to the second nipple and Draco's sucking, biting mouth left him senseless. Harry felt the push of the man's groin against his own, the Vampire's hips rolling gently as he worked his tongue against the rigid nubs that sparked pleasure down his stomach. 

The younger boy choked on a moan, his hands clinging to the blonde's shoulders as he rolled his hips against Draco's. The length of stiffness in the Vampire's trousers was heavy against his own, bigger and longer from what Harry could feel of it as he buried his face in pale, blonde hair and rutted softly with a frantic whimper. 

Draco was growling, dark and low against his chest, his mouth moving to lave hot, wet streaks against Harry's throat as he rolled his hips against the younger boy's. The friction sent Harry reeling, his mind spinning as that hard length pushed relentlessly against his own. Draco's mouth suck a pattern on his throat, the Vampire snarling suddenly as he shifted Harry to press against him even more. 

The sudden shift brought the dark haired boy closer, his eyes sliding shut as heat pooled fast and hot in his stomach and his spine bowed with a sudden arch. There was a press of teeth against his throat, a sudden, gentle warning, before Draco had pierced the skin with his fangs. 

Harry felt himself stiffen, the white hot pain only adding to the boiling, trembling sensations inside him as he suddenly climaxed. He felt himself spill inside his trousers, his hips working still as his mind blanked and pleasure roared across his senses. The sting against his neck of Draco pulling blood had him wailing, gasping against the onslaught of such a feeling. 

Too much... It was almost too much... 

And Harry wanted to feel it again and again for the rest of his life.

The blonde huffed a growl against his skin, Draco's tongue lapping against the marks as he stiffened against Harry with a groan. 

Harry trembled in the blonde's hold as the pair slowly came back to themselves, Draco's arms wrapping tight and unyielding around Harry's waist as he pressed gentle kisses to the boy's neck. 

Harry felt his own lips pull back in a satisfied, little smile; his body sinking against Draco's with a small sigh.


	18. Chapter 18

Remus threaded his fingers through the thick hair, styling the curls back with a potion that James had handed to him in passing. 

Harry winced as the man pulled on a particularly difficult knot, before he sighed in satisfaction and took a step back. The style was one Remus had attempted on Harry before, a simple, tidy look that did its best to stop Harry appearing as the vagrant his hair and oversized clothes had so often coaxed him into. 

The outfit his mother had had tailored for him fit exceptionally well, sleeveless so as to leave his pale arms bare, his wand holster dark and almost like a warning against his forearm. It was tight but flexible across his chest, opening to part just below his waist where it billowed out to show the black trousers and impeccable black boots he wore beneath. 

The collar was the only thing that mildly bothered him, its fabric stiff and awkward and hiding the mark he had worn for the last few days with no small amount of pride. 

Remus grinned down at him as he tugged at it, rolling his eyes and folding the fabric until Draco's mark was half on show. "You do realise that it was bold of him to put such a mark on you without asking you to court him first, right?"

Harry grinned back, skimming his fingertips against the slightly swollen skin. The bite had been placed on a gland, he had learned from his mother, in between her giggles when she noticed it. Draco's intent, with such a placement, meant that he not only wanted everyone to see it; but he had wanted Harry to feel it with every pulse of scent he released. 

"I'm not really about being courted, though, to be honest." Harry chuckled as Sirius whizzed past them, the man grumbling something about his favourite pair of hiking boots being stolen. 

"They're in the suitcase, Sirius, I packed them last night!" Remus shouted after his thundering husband before rolling his eyes at Harry. "Well, far be it from me to tell you how to run your life, young sir."

The older man grinned as he hoisted his own suitcase beside Harry's before shrinking the two of them down and popping them both in the pockets of his robes. He winked at the younger boy as he ushered him into the kitchen. "Personally, I am beyond thrilled that the young fellow went and took a step forward. It's about bloody time, and the mark will deter a certain amount of... Unwanted attention from you at least."

Lily nodded as she rounded the corner beside the pair, her own suitcase dangling, pocket-sized, from a clip in her belt as she fastened an emerald green sash around her waist. "Too right, Remus. Don't let anyone you don't like the look of get away with any funny business, Harry. Draco's mark is a security for that, but some people are just without manners."

His mother looked every bit the fearsome witch Harry had once envisioned her to be. In an outfit similar to his own but in vibrant green, with a leather trim and long, black sleeves; the woman almost looked like a warrior. Her fiery red hair had been pulled into a high ponytail atop her head and her grin was feral as she leaned in to straighten Remus' own lilac robes with a sigh. 

"Not that I'm trying to frighten you, pet. You're going to have an absolute blast at this thing! We'll be staying near Molly and the lads and you'll get to meet the others and their partners; not to mention all the new people that will be clambering over themselves to get a chance to be friends with such a great kid!" 

Harry flushed as Lily chucked a hand beneath his chin and turned in time to stop James from running head-first into the three of them. 

"Right!" The Alpha was dressed as finely as his wife, in bright blue robes, and clasped his hands tight together with a grin in their direction. "Have we everything together? Are we all ready?"

There was a muffled shout, the sound of something half falling down the stairs, before a harried looking Sirius stalked into the room carrying his battered looking suitcase. Remus offered the man the driest of looks before shrinking the luggage down and popping it into his own pocket. He pulled his mate in close and used one hand to tighten the band around Sirius' hair. 

"Honestly."

James turned to cast an unknown spell into the fireplace, the Floo powder turning a fierce golden orange, before it fizzled to its regular green flames. "Speak the password I've given you clearly and quickly, the journey won't be a terribly long one but do keep your elbows in; some of these chimney systems are desperately old! Ready?"

"Oh, wait!" 

Harry snapped his head around to see something small and dark and curious glancing at him from behind the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. He grinned as he held a hand out for Tom and guided the long snake to wind about his middle beneath the flair of his silver robes. With a smile, he turned back around and nodded to the group. 

"Ready!"

###

Harry could most certainly say that that had been the longest Floo journey he had ever taken in his life. 

He all but tipped out of the fireplace when his feet eventually touched down, scowling at the ornate ledge that nearly tripped him up a second time and hissing back at Tom who was scowling up a storm where the irate beast was winding his way up around Harry's shoulders. 

"I know, I know, 'tis no fault of mine that you went and decided you wanted to come with me, is it?"

"Pardon?" 

Tom halted his sniping, Harry glancing up to find a pair of bright yellow eyes staring down at him. He jolted, taking a step back when he realised how close his aggravated steps had taken him to someone else. 

"Sorry! Was... Ah... Talking to the... Er... Snake..."

The yellow eyes blinked, the man who owned them seeming only a scant year or two older than Harry as he turned a slender body gracefully in his direction. His skin was incredibly pale, translucent almost beneath the bright light of the massive room Harry now stood in. His hair was long, snow white and piled high in an intricate knot on top of his head as he peered down at Harry. 

"You are not family that I know," The man spoke in Parseltongue, Harry realised with a jolt, his voice curious and young. His tongue was slender, flecking out like a snake's as though to scent the air. "But you speak our language all the same. You have a feel of our blood about you..." 

He peered at Harry with no small amount of interest, his brow furrowing, before he tilted his head as though listening to some distant call that Harry could not hear. With one last, intrigued look, he bowed and turned away to vanish into the crowd. 

And it was, indeed, a crowd. 

The room was a ballroom of some sort, Harry was beginning to make out despite his strange first encounter. The ceiling was incredibly high, far enough up to the sky that it would have been in shadow if not for the hundreds of immaculate, glass chandeliers that lit the room just as much as the narrow, tall windows did despite the lack of sunlight. The walls were lined with marble statues, creatures and wizards alike twisted into gentle, relaxed poses with beautifully carved faces. Harry stared at them in awe as the fireplaces behind him flared to life, letting in person after person to steadily fill the gigantic room. 

Despite the dozens upon dozens of bodies, it was open and un-cluttered still. There were a multitude of tables all lined with food of all sorts, goblets filled with drinks and water; and the sound of people laughing and chatting and squealing as young children met other young children to befriend or to chase. 

"Woah."

"Right?" 

Harry turned to grin at the redhead that had appeared by his side, taking in Ron's slick hair and the dress-robes that hung dark and perfectly fitted to his strong frame. Harry whistled. "Don't you clean up well?"

Ron flushed, and Harry laughed to see his ears turn the same shade of pink as the rest of him. The redhead huffed as he smacked his arm lightly, the pair turning to watch as the rest of Harry's family made their way from the fireplace to where the two were standing. 

"Harry, dear!" 

Harry squeaked as he was embraced from behind, his instincts fast catching the scent of Mrs. Weasley as the pair crowded in close to their group. 

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley." 

The older woman crooned, catching his cheek in a gentle pat as she swooped in to give Lily a one-armed hug. "Doesn't he look smashing, Lily? You look beautiful Harry, dear, oh, come and meet Charlie!"

Harry was taken by the arm, Molly chatting to Lily about their arrival earlier that morning as the woman steered the pair of them away from their small group and towards the main crowd. "Your suite is just beside ours, Lily; Severus even managed to secure a suite for Narcissa and Draco just a few doors up. Wait until you see the rest of this venue, by Merlin, it is something else! You know I haven't even been outside yet and I think I am in love with it all..."

Harry's smile was soft, half his attention on the women as they passed by person after person that seemed to be having the same, excited sort of conversations. A few eyes caught his, some smiling, others glancing away again; and some holding his own to such a sudden intensity that he turned from them with a flush, his cheeks alight by the time he realised Molly had stopped and he was stood in front of none other than Charlie Weasley. 

By Merlin, if Charlie Weasley was not one of the best looking men Harry had ever laid eyes on; in his own world and, seemingly, in this one too. 

He was older by a few years, his frame tall and broad and all but screaming Alpha as he laughed at something a bright-eyed, blonde was whispering up at him. He turned as he caught sight of his mother, his long hair back in a vibrant red braid that dropped the full length of his spine. His blue eyes were piercing as they locked onto Harry's, a sudden, curious smile taking over his face. 

"Lily, an absolute pleasure to see you again, how are you?" 

The man's voice was deep and kind, his hand sweeping out to catch Lily's own before the woman huffed and pulled him into a hug. "Charlie, sweetheart, it's been too long! You've your poor mother's nerves frazzled from what I hear!" 

Charlie laughed, his gaze straying to Harry once more as the younger boy lifted a hand to wave his fingers with a grin. Charlie smiled at him. "No more frazzled than I would assume yours are at the moment. From the letters and Floo calls, it's hard to keep up with all that's been going on at home. You must be Harry." 

Harry was unprepared for the redhead to grasp his hand and pull him in for a sudden hug. His magic flared for the briefest moment, flashing green across his skin until the familiar scent of Weasley and home settled his nerves and he relaxed into the sudden hug, tapping at Tom's head when the snake grumbling at being half-squashed. 

"Christ, look at that magic!" 

Charlie drew back with a wide grin, his eyes alight as the small blonde beside him suddenly bounced up and stuck his hand out. 

A Beta, Harry's instincts mulled idly, as he shook the man's hand and took in his pale pink robes and lilac coloured eyes with a smile. "Yeah, sorry, I haven't quite gotten full control over it, yet."

The blonde shook his head, scoffing, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. "It doesn't need to be controlled, darling, it's a part of you! It's bloody incredible aswell, I've never seen magic so bloody... Visible! And bright! And I'm bonded to a damn Dragon!" 

The blonde chuckled as he moved to pull Molly into a hug and Charlie offered a hand to Tom for the snake to scent. "A Draonette, to be specific," the redhead grinned when Tom threw him a dry glare and rolled his head under the redhead's hand for a scratch. "Rory is the newest addition to our nest. As soon as I find where the rest of my lovely mates have gone, I will be sure to introduce you, Harry. Rory is right, by the way. Your magic is magnificent. And this little guy is one intelligent beastie... I wonder what breed of snake he is..."

Harry watched Charlie scratch under Tom's chin with a chuckle, plucking at the plume of feather-like yellow spikes atop his head. 

Wherever he ended up, Harry was beginning to believe that Charlie Weasley would forever be the kindest of souls. 

###

The air outside was incredibly fresh, the sights around them stretching further than Harry could see across the horizon. The main building that most had floo'd into was a manor house of incredible proportions. It rivalled even Hogwarts in length and width and breadth and was situated in the centre of a field of perfectly paved stone paths and lush green lawns. There were houses scattered beside it that could house families, and even more tents and space strewn across the impressive amount of green in one direction. The gardens to his right were filled with families, picnic blankets and baskets strewn across empty spots as children ran in and around the hedge-work. 

Across to the left was a field that carried on for miles, where winged creatures dotted across the clear skies in dark streaks as they flew. A forest cropped up even beyond that, littered with trees that had to be miles long, if their size was anything on what Harry could see of them even from the distance he was at. 

It was incredible, a massive, impressive, fantastic amount of space and housing some of the most incredible people Harry had ever seen in his life. 

As soon as the twins had arrived to all but tackle Charlie to the ground and demand a game of quidditch, Harry had been fast to hand Tom off to his narrow-eyed mother and   
follow them. He stood between Fred and George as they pair chatted above his head, George snapping his teeth as Charlie goaded him; the older Alpha poking holes in whatever strategy he was trying to name. 

As they neared, Harry could make out the telltale sign of brooms in flight amid the many winged creatures; the shouts and roars of delight as they flew overhead. He was peering up at the sky as he slowed, the people around him milling past and stalling to stare up just as he was. 

There were dragons in the sky. 

Magnificent, enormous dragons the size of houses in shocking colours of green and purple and blue and peach... They careened through the air, flying past the creatures with the pale, feathered wings and deadly looking talons, past vampires with golden wings spread wide or black wings dipping low to skim the edges of the treeline. Creatures he could not even begin to name, all flying in one sky... 

It was beyond anything that Harry would have ever thought he would see. 

He was so enraptured in his staring, that he full on collided with someone stood in front of him. He smacked face first into the stranger's back, a yelp leaving him as he lost his balance and landed square on his backside with an undignified squeak of alarm. 

Harry groaned as he straightened, before there were hands suddenly on his waist and he was righted back to his feet, his cheeks scarlet with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry..."

"Hello, Omega."

The voice was dark, incredibly elegant and terrifyingly familiar. 

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his fangs flashing once in a grimace as he snapped his head up to stare back at the golden eyes of one, Theodore Nott. 

The Vampire was just as impressive as he had been the last time, dressed in elegant grey robes with his dark, golden wings half-flared behind him and his lips tilted in that same, curious smile. 

"Harry." Harry scowled as he batted the man's hands away from his waist, his magic crackling across his palms in a manner that drew Theo's gaze with no small amount of amusement. "My name is Harry." 

"Harry..." Theo purred the word, and despite a portion of himself that wanted to smack Theo square in the jaw, a fraction of his mind turned to putty at the noise. He shook his head, taking another step back and glancing around for the three redheads that he had obviously lost track of with all his staring. 

What the hell was wrong with him?

"I guess I'll be going, then..." Harry tensed as Theo took a step towards him, the Vampire lifting a sudden hand to his throat. He stopped a scant inch from Harry's neck, the dark haired boy breathing hard beneath the scent of curiosity and interest that seemed to swell from the golden-winged man. 

Theo's hummed, his golden eyes soft as he traced the barest touch against the outline of Draco's mark on Harry's neck. 

"He has not claimed you..." Theo's voice was a whisper, his brow furrowed, "One must wonder why... When you are what so many desire..." 

Harry glared, his fangs flashing in a bared growl. "An Omega?"

Theo laughed, the sound soft and delighted as his golden eyes suddenly flashed and he leaned in close, his breath sweet with the scent of copper and mint. He tsked, shaking his head. 

"Powerful." 

Harry felt his own confusion like a palpable thing on his face as Theo suddenly pulled back, one eyebrow lifting as he peered at someone over Harry's shoulder. 

"Theodore... There wouldn't be an issue happening here, now would there?"

The voice was strikingly familiar to Harry, and he spun to find himself staring up at the grinning, friendly face of Lee Jordan. 

The man was as tall as Theodore himself, though his shoulders were nearly twice as broad and he had a maturity to his age that Harry had never seen on his counterpart. His dark hair was littered with tiny braids, all pulled back from a handsome, dark face in a ponytail. The clothes he wore were severe, black robes slashed in vibrant red runes with his arms left bare to show the wand he had lifted from its holster. 

By his side stood a fearsome looking Angelina Johnson, her features sharp and blank as she pointed one slender finger at Harry and crooked it towards where she stood. 

Memories of his own Angelina snapping down at him flared fast in Harry's mind and he felt fear like a genuine thing for the woman he thought he knew. 

This Lee and this Angelina were far more intense than any version he had ever known. They moved with a grace that spoke of years of training, the scent of Alpha strong and almost overwhelming from them both. Angelina's own dark hair was pulled up in a fierce knot atop her head, her features beautiful in the way a lion or a wolf might be beautiful; dangerously so, and to be admired from afar. 

She wore the same black robes as Lee, her arms toned and her height a fraction taller than the lot of them as Harry sidled closer, his head bowed beneath the weight of those dark brown eyes. 

"Did this man bother you, Omega?"

Angelina's voice was a growl, and Harry felt his magic crackle in response across his skin, the green light flaring like a subtle beacon as Angelina held up her hands and smiled at him. The smile brought a degree of warmth to the woman, softened her features and Harry felt the tension drop from his shoulders. He sighed, glancing back at Theodore with a small look of confusion. 

"He didn't really, to be honest... I was the one that bumped into him..." 

Angelina hummed, before Lee waved Theo on and turned in their direction; his grin bright and wide. Harry watched Theo take flight without a second glance in his direction, the Vampire's golden wings spread wide across his sight for one brief moment. 

"That's a neat party trick."

The voice was Lee's and Harry glanced down in time to see that he was pointing at where the magic skittered still across his fingers. He shook them out with a growl, crossing his arms. "I can't exactly do it on command yet... Thanks, though, for making him leave?"

Lee chuckled, Angelina's own laugh soft and dark on his other side. "No problem kid," The man grinned down at him, the scent of Alpha less thick and more comfortable; as though the air had evened out. "It is kind of our job." 

"Your job?"

"Harry!"

"Merlin, Potter, are you trying to give us heart failure?"

Harry squawked as his arms were gripped by two separate hands and he was turned to face two wide-eyed, white-faced Weasley twins. 

"Do you have any idea what your mother would have done to us if we'd lost you on the first bloody day?"

"Do you have any idea what our mother would have done to us?"

"It doesn't bare thinking about, Forge." 

"Most certainly not, Gred."

The twins blew a sigh out in tandem, their bodies sagging in relief, before they seemed to register that Harry had not been alone and pulled the younger boy in close to eye the other two with narrowed gazes. 

"Is there a reason he needed two members of the Guard around him?"

The Guard?

"What Guard?"

Lee glanced down at Harry's question with one raised eyebrow, his lips still tilted in a smile even despite Fred and George's sudden suspicion. "Never heard of the Guard? Merlin, kid, what rock did you grow up under?"

The man yowled as Angelina punched him square in the arm, before she turned to Harry with a smile. "The Guard is employed to protect the Council and the Ministry. We are sought out at a young age due to our innate ability with Shadow magic. Our schooling is difficult, and not many can bare the weight of it; but those who do are honoured as members of the Guard. We protect people, little one."

Well... Harry stared up at the both of them, that would explain how they never made it to Hogwarts.

"I'm Harry," he offered the tall woman a hand, smiling when she glanced first at George, before clasping his with her own. 

"Angelina." 

Lee nodded, grasping Harry's hand with a grin when the younger boy offered it. "Lee." He glanced up at the twins, his grin morphing into something mischievous. "Are these poor dears belonging to you, then, Harry? It's an absolute crime that they would let someone as delightful as you wonder off alone."

George's outraged growl was broken off by Fred elbowing him in the ribs, the Alpha twin looking down at his brother in betrayal. Fred flushed. "No, Harry's not ours, I mean like, he's family. We take care of him, he's, like... He's not our, um..."

"They're my brothers." Harry grinned pulling Fred and George in closer and delighting in the flush that stole across Fred's cheeks as Lee purred down at him. "And they're probably the best Beaters in all of England."

Angelina's eyes flashed, her white teeth snapping on a feral smile as she eyed the shorter form of George. "Is that so? That seems an awfully big thing to boast about..."

George eyed her back, his lips drawing back over his fangs as he glanced at his brother and their eyes flashed silver. 

Harry stepped back in time to see Charlie striding towards them, with Rory and another man fast on his heels. In their hands, they held several of the latest Firebolt editions, a quaffle being tossed up and caught by the smiling redhead. Harry grinned back at him. 

He would happily show the twins just what, or rather who, they were missing in their lives.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

The man following in behind Charlie was as tall as Angelina, and had hair the colour of molten fire. 

Scarlet red and brazen orange, it was held back in a simple band and left bare his pale face and fantastic, amber eyes. Scales of rich ruby lined each high cheekbone and he flashed a smile filled with sharp, white teeth as Harry stared up at him. 

Rory handed Harry a broom, the man's own soft smile breaking him from his staring with a flush. "I don't blame you," was whispered, thick and fond, in his ear as Rory pulled his hair back in a tight ponytail, his lilac eyes darting to the man that was leaning an arm on Charlie's shoulder and grinning down at something Fred was saying. "Gabriel is a looker, to say it plainly." 

Harry could not help but think that was possibly the understatement of the century as Rory snorted a laugh beside him, glancing back at the man as he barked a low, rolling laugh; his head tipping back to show off the littering of scales that wrapped around his throat and beneath the collar of his black tunic. The man was like some magnificent, medieval painting or sculpture come to life. Charlie caught Harry's eye with a sudden smile, before nudging Gabriel forward. 

"Gabriel, go and introduce yourself to Harry, will you? And nab the other two as soon as we find them again to do the same. From what my brothers have been saying, he's practically family." The words brought a soft smile to Harry's face as he glanced up at the man leaning down to stretch a hand out to him. Practically family was always how he should be introduced when it came to the Weasley's; even if he had found a family all his own, it relaxed something inside him that he had not even been aware of. He offered Gabriel a bright smile, his magic sparking across his fingers as he reached out to clasp a large hand soft with silken scales dressing the centre of its palm. 

Gabriel's eyes widened, his smile dropping to let loose a snap of a sound that sounded almost like a laugh. Warm eyes regarded him curiously. "Harry, yes? A strong one you are!" The accent was Romanian, subtle in a voice well used to speaking English. "I am Gabriel, Charlie's favourite mate, of course. I am a Dragonette by nature and an incredible Quidditch player by natural talent." 

"Yeah," George snorted, throwing the Quaffle he held at Gabriel and grinning when the Dragonette caught it with one hand, "when he's not being a bloody cheat." 

Gabriel gasped, his other hand going to his chest to clasp it as though affronted, "I would never." 

The scent of Gabriel was Alpha, without a shadow of a doubt, but it was different in a way that Harry assumed was due to the... Dragonette thing mentioned. It was clear the man was some sort of creature, and if his scales and name were any indication; Harry was going to assume that Gabriel had a few other Dragon-like attributes, that would probably come in handy in a game of Quidditch. He grinned.

"So if you're so good, you won't mind a Rookie like myself on your team then, yes?" 

Harry widened his eyes innocently when Gabriel cast a look down at him, the red haired Dragonette cooing as he reached out to take the younger, much smaller boy under one arm. "No fear, little one! I shall guarantee our win, single-handedly! I am fantastic at this game, one of the best!" 

Charlie rolled his eyes with a grin as Lee balked on the insinuation, his chest puffing out as George handed him a Beater's bat with a feral grin. "I will be sure to tell Viktor that, then, when I see him, shall I?" 

Gabriel seemed to deflate a fraction, his grin wilting as he grimaced a scowl down at Charlie. "You do and you see how quick I am to revoke your... bedroom privileges', my Charles." 

Charlie flushed scarlet as Rory and the twins let loose peals of laughter, his eyes narrowing as he strode to stand beside the little blonde with his arms crossed. "I'm on Rory's team." 

"We'll be on that team as well, then!" Lee announced, dragging Angelina by the elbow to stand beside Charlie and shooing Fred and George to stand beside Harry and Gabriel. George glanced down at Harry with a smile filled with teeth. "Fine by us." 

They mapped out their field in a space of air devoid of others, careful to make sure there was no one above before Charlie unshrunk the chest and released the bludgers and snitch with a satisfied little sigh. Harry was grinning as they took to the air, his eyes snapping towards the little snitch that fluttered about them for the barest fraction of a second, vibrant and golden against so much lush green field and trees. The broom beneath him was a newer model than the Comet, nearly as fast as the Firebolt had been and responsive to the barest of maneuvers. 

He tested it slowly, dipping low and pulling up again as there was a sudden shout beneath him and the game began in full. Rory had pulled up high across from him, lilac eyes narrowed and stance low to the broom that suggested he was experienced enough when it came to playing the Seeker. 

Harry's head snapped down as a massive crack shot through the air and Fred howled with laughter as he sent a bludger bulleting towards Lee. The dark haired man yelped, dipping low against the sudden projectile as Angelina growled and darted in behind him to send the ball careening straight back towards the other team. She was as fierce in the air as she had been below it, her teeth bared in a snow white grimace as her dark eyes followed the game. 

Gabriel was the first to score, throwing his head back in a laugh as he sped passed a bemused Charlie to cast in the first point. He preened as he passed his mate, Charlie throwing his eyes up but flushing nonetheless as the Dragonette's broom sidled in close to his own and the man leaned in the whisper something in his ear. 

"Oi!" Fred bellowed, breathless as he swerved to knock a bludger away from the pair and growl at them in turn, "No fraternizing with the enemy!" 

Gabriel took off with a smile and a scowl from Charlie and Harry grinned as George snuck between Angelina and her ploy to aim the ball at the man's retreating form, his eyes flashing silver as he sent the ball speeding back her way and drew a snarl from her as she ducked. 

The game was quick, Harry's eyes barely able to keep up with the speed these people were capable of when competitive. He blinked as he saw Rory suddenly dive, his back straightening and his arms tightening their grip on the broom, before he realised it was a feint and his fangs flashed in a smile. He watched the blonde pull out and glance at him with a frown, before Harry was streaking off towards him in turn, in a sudden loop that had the man nearly toppling from his broom. 

Harry chuckled as he watched the blonde straighten back up. He looped around him once more, drawing a huff of laughter from Rory, before Harry glanced down as though spotting something and tipped himself backwards in an abrupt spin that dove him straight towards the ground. Rory followed him, the blonde letting loose a sound of surprise as Harry pulled out of the feint halfway through and sped upwards to hover beside him for the briefest moment, delighting in how responsive the broom was beneath his touch. 

With a flick of his wrist, he left the blonde behind and shot upwards through a startled Lee and Angelina and snapped to a stop just above gameplay and in time to watch Rory try and right himself on his broom again with a fierce glare. 

George was laughing somewhere behind him, Charlie gawking up at him as Gabriel let loose a whoop of delight. 

"That is how you feint, by Merlin, our Vik will love you, Harry!" 

Harry had barely a second to dwell on what must have been the name of one of Gabriel and Charlie's missing mates, before a sudden shriek tore through the air above them. 

The sound was deafening against the gentle shouts of those playing around on brooms and creatures flying aimlessly. It shot through Harry's heart like a lance of ice, shrill and high and full of horrified fear; an inhuman shriek of terror. The sky itself seemed to still at the sound of it, those around him frozen.

Harry's eyes snapped to the skies, his skin alight with nerves as that scream cut off with a breathless gasp before another one, louder than the first, rent the air and there was suddenly something white plummeting before him. 

He moved before he had even grasped what it was he was doing, fingers pressing down on his broom handle to spin him straight down in the direction of that falling bundle of white... Feathers? Harry tore through the still, locked forms of the others as he shot closer and closer towards the falling bundle, the fingers of one hand outstretched to trace the barest edge of that pristine plummege. 

He hissed a gasp at the sound of a bludger speeding towards him met his ears, his eyes locked only on what was before him and his body stretching across the broom as he reached both arms out to grasp the tiny thing with his hands. WIth a cry, he grabbed it, pulling his broom up mere feet above the ground they had been fast approaching. With one arm wrapped tight around the crying, squirming thing he held so close to his chest, Haryr lifted the other to cast a shield around them both as the bludger barreled towards them. 

His shield flared in a crackling bubble of violent green, full of the scent of magic and strong enough that Harry could barely see through it to watch as the bludger halted in its tracks. The simple spell that kept it moving seemed to have shattered as the ball fell harmlessly to the grass beneath them, his shield flickering once before fading out with nothing more than a crackle of energy. 

Harry's chest was heaving, his eyes wide as he floated down to the ground. His legs buckled beneath him as he took a step off his broom, his breath panicked even in his own ears as he clutched the little thing close and peered down. 

It had been a child. 

An infant, really... A baby...

Maybe three, or four... Wide blue eyes peered up at him from a pale, round face surrounded by fluffy, blonde curls. The kid looked up at him with a pout on their lips, their young eyes filled with tears as they ruffled snow-white wings covered in the softest feathers Harry had ever felt in his life. 

"Hi there," He whispered, his voice a tiny, shaking thing as he shuffled the kid awkwardly in one arm. "You're okay..."

"Victoire!"

There was a flurry of movement, a sudden inhuman shriek and Harry looked up with wide eyes. 

Fleur Delacour had never looked as beautiful and equally as terrifying as she did at the moment. Her blonde hair was wild about her slender face, striking and lovely even as pinched with fear and worry as it was. A pair of incredibly bright white, feathered wings sprouted form her spine and bowed forward as she hit the ground, her pale pink robes billowing about her. 

Harry felt his heart clench at the sight of her, his chest still heaving with the force of his breath as he turned the young toddler towards their mother. He watched Fleur drop to her knees in front of him, her face streaked with tears as she reached out trembling hands to take her baby. A trembling coo broke from her throat, her own body heaving with a soft little sob as she tucked the young child beneath her chin and their small hands clasped at the front of her robes. Her words were laden with her tears, wet and so very grateful.

"You saved 'er... You saved 'er... You saved 'er..." 

Harry jumped as the Veela woman grasped one arm around her child and reached the other out to pull him in close, his face as buried in her bosom as her toddler's. The reality of what had happened was causing a tremor in his hands, though his panic was almost overshadowed by the sudden mortification Harry felt as Fleur began sobbing, her chest heaving into his face as he tried to both free himself and pat her arm in comfort. 

There were voices around them, shouts, cries and talking and laughter in disbelief as he was disentangled from Fleur's iron grasp and took a gasp of much needed air that had George snorting a trembling laugh behind him. 

"Merlin Harry... If you hadn't been... If she... Thank you..."

Fred's voice was soft as he kneeled beside his twin, his eyes warm as he put a hand on Fleur's back and the woman glanced up at him before breaking into tears anew. Her child, Victoire, was fussing against her, squirming and letting loose little screeches of discontent as she tried to twist in her mother's arms to look around her. 

"We got here early and had gone for a fly before meeting Mum... We used it only last night and it was fine... The strap just snapped, it just broke while we were up there... We had no time to even grab her, I thought..." 

Harry heard Bill's voice before he saw him, the redhead paler than Harry had ever seen him and devoid of the scars he had become so known for in Harry's old reality. He was older, cutting an impressive figure even as his hand trembled where it clutched a broom and the broken remnants of what looked to be a Baby Carrier. The man's voice was weak as he stared down at his wife and child, his other hand over his heart as Charlie wrapped one arm around him and shushed him gently. 

"Harry got her, Bill, don't even think of the alternative. She's alright. It's okay, she's alright." 

Harry felt those piercing blue eyes land on him, and smiled weakly up at Bill. "Hi... Ah... I'm Harry."

Bill crouched down to look at him, the scent of Alpha unsurprising and a strange comfort to Harry's fraying nerves. The man reached out to put a hand on his daughter's curls, his breath heaving out of him as he smiled back at Harry. "Harry Potter I have heard so many good things about you from my mother... And none of it does you a blind bit of justice." His brow furrowed, his eyes trained on Victoire and Fleur's weepy, smiling face as she cooed down at her baby. "You saved my daughter's life. I owe you a debt I will never be able to repay." 

Harry jumped as Fleur began weeping again, her words muddled between French and English as she clasped Harry's hand incredibly tight in her own. Harry shook his head. "You're family, Bill. You don't owe me anything..."

"We felt Charlie's panic in the bond, Molly's on her way! Is everyone alright?"

The voice struck Harry to his core, panicked but no less confidant as the people around them parted to let a new pair enter the strange circle they seemed to have formed on the field. It was a voice that Harry had been so sure he would never again hear. Prim, perfectly accented with her London background and ready to take full charge of the situation around her if need be. 

A voice that sounded exactly as it should have done. Harry whirled in her direction. 

"Hermione." 

The woman was the same. 

Older than him as everyone seemed to be, but timeless with her somewhat tamed mop of warm brown curls floating about her face. Her brown eyes were wide and stern, motherly and so reminiscent of Molly Weasley's own brown. She started when Harry spoke her name, her hands dropping from her scarlet robed hips to peer down at him with a soft face that morphed to one of worry. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Harry felt his heart break at the same time that something incredibly thankful swelled inside him. As bittersweet as it was that she did not recognise him, that she could not possibly have known him; there she was. His friend. His sister. There she stood between a stoic, bemused looking Viktor Krum and a fond Charlie who placed a hand on her back as she bent forward. 

Harry felt a laugh, high and full of tears break from him, before his magic crackled once across his fingertips and he was sobbing, his hands wrapping tight around his waist at the weight of what could have happened bowed his spine. If he had been just a fraction slower to react... If that bludger had hit him before he reached her... If the bludger had hit her...

Harry felt a desperate little sound spill from his own mouth, high and panicked. He had only a split strange, overbearing moment to hear the sudden flare of wings and an alarmingly familiar growl; before scarlet eyes were in front of him and Draco's soft hush and cool fingers on his neck were sinking him softly into darkness.


End file.
